


Just Give Me a Reason

by Huntress79, jstabe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Tony Stark, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23388331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jstabe/pseuds/jstabe
Summary: Falling in love with Steve was easy. Adding Bucky to the mix when he came back was just slightly more difficult. Clint should have known that nothing was that simple. When it all falls apart, he has to find a way to move forward. He can’t just quit being an Avenger. Then S.H.I.E.L.D. comes to him with a mission - HYDRA is up to something regarding the Winter Soldier. Clint will be damned if HYDRA takes Bucky from Steve again. And if working with the two super soldiers threatens to break Clint’s heart again? Well, he’ll learn how to deal. Getting back together? Not even on Clint’s radar.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers
Comments: 20
Kudos: 97
Collections: Marvel Rare Pair Bang 2019





	Just Give Me a Reason

**Author's Note:**

> I owe so many thanks here. First, to the mods at Marvel Rare Pair Bang for running this event, and for being super understanding when life got in the way. 
> 
> To my awesome artist, [Huntress79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79) for being patient and understanding and answering any questions I had. Thank you so much for choosing my fic!
> 
> And to my always beta, Ely. It's because of her that this makes any sort of sense at all.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/0c/38/dY0c7Zbx_o.jpg)

*********************

_Chapter 1 - Tony_

“Sir, you have a call coming in through your private line from Agent Barton.” 

Tony blinked, looking up from Bruce’s collection of tea. He’d been trying to find a flavor that inspired more than the urge to throw up. None of them were coffee so it wasn’t going very well. Tony yawned and stretched, frown furrowing his brow. 

“Why isn’t he calling my cell, JARVIS?” 

“I don’t know, sir. Perhaps you should ask him.” 

“Not the time for sass, J. Patch him through.” 

JARVIS, of course, said nothing because it was always the time for that. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shaggy head pop up from the couch. Huh. Barnes must not have been sleeping again. Not that Tony could judge. The sight of Barnes made Tony wonder why Barton wasn’t calling one of his super powered boyfriends. He supposed he’d find out soon enough. There was a faint ping that told Tony that JARVIS had connected the call through the overhead speakers. 

“Hey, Robin, how’s tricks?” Tony asked absentmindedly as he turned to throw a pod into the coffee maker. He wasn’t going to sleep now, so his promise to Bruce about cutting back on caffeine could wait. He didn’t realize how long it took Barton to answer him until there was a ragged breath that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“H..hey Stark.” 

Barnes was off the couch so fast that Tony knew he wasn’t imaging the thread of pain running through those words. Some instinct had him pulling up an interface screen and muting the call so Barton wouldn’t get any background noise while still letting anyone else in the lounge hear. Tony slid an ear bud out of his pocket and settled it into place, tapped it on. 

“Got some trouble?” 

Barton’s laugh turned into a wet cough. “You could say that.” 

Tony was vaguely aware of Barnes cursing as he called Steve. Blue-gray eyes bored into Tony’s as he pulled up a map. The tracker in Clint’s phone was dark. Before Tony could ask, there was the sound of shuffling and then Barton’s voice again. 

“That gravy mission for S.H.I.E.L.D.? Not so gravy. Kind of a goat fuck.” 

Tony frowned, already working to call up maps of the area he knew Barton had been sent to. “I never remember which is worse, a clusterfuck or a goat fuck. I mean, one does involve farm animals so...” Weak laughter made the corner of Tony’s mouth curl even as his stomach churned. “What’s your trouble, Barton?” 

“Bad intel. Go figure. Supposed to be a milk run for the baby agents.” 

There was a long pause that made Tony wonder if they’d lost connection. The steady green light in the corner of his interface told Tony that wasn’t the case. Tony was about to prod Clint for more when the door to the communal floor banged open and Steve came in on a dead run. He was in sleep pants and a T-shirt, hair rumpled and eyes wild as he went straight to Barnes. 

Tony turned back to his maps as Barton’s voice came from overheard. 

“They’re all gone, man. Every single... one of them.” 

Tony froze, looking up at the speaker in the ceiling like that would change what Barton had said. He’d been sent on a training op to help Hill’s new recruits. She was doing a more than passable job of pulling S.H.I.E.L.D. from the ashes as far as Tony could tell, but this? 

“Sabotage, you think?” 

There was the sound of movement and a pained grunt. Tony could see Steve’s shoulders go even more rigid from here. 

“Nah, probably not. Just a shit op. Happens sometimes.” Barton grunted again and Tony heard rustling fabric. “Facility wasn’t abandoned. Fuck if I know where they came in from. The place was empty when I cleared it.” A ragged breath, and Tony’s heart clenched. “I cleared the fucking building and was up on the roof, scanning the area. I cleared it and told them to come in. Told them it was fucking fine, and...” 

Movement had him turning to see that Steve had reached out and was holding Barnes’ hand in a death grip. Yeah, you didn’t need super hearing to catch the anguish in Barton’s voice. 

“Sniper on the building across the street. I caught the glint of moonlight on his barrel. Fuckin’ amateur. He still got off a couple of shots. I was firing back, trying to catch the lead kid and abort.” Another wet-sounding grunt. “They blew the goddamn building. Must not have wired the roof because it came down in the collapse. Didn’t blow.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Barton laughed shakily. “Yeah. Pretty sure there’s nothing except bodies under me. Can’t tell. Got six floors of rubble between me and the ground.” 

“How’s the air? I’ve had JARVIS calculating. We can be to you in... J?’ 

“Approximately six hours, sir.” 

“To hell with that. We can do better. Okay, Barton? We’re coming. Let me grab your boys. JARVIS, fire up the Quinjet.” 

Barton’s voice stopped him. “There’s no time, Tony.” 

The sound of his name brought Tony up short. Sure, he and Barton were friendly; still, they tended to last name one another unless Tony was using one of his many and varied nicknames for the archer. 

“What aren’t you telling me? Is it the air?” 

“Nah, me and the rubble landed in the basement when shit collapsed. There’s nothing above me except some partial walls. Can see the sky.” A contemplative pause. “’s nice. There’s stars. Sunrise pretty soon, I think.” 

“Clint.” 

“Nah, it’s cool, man. Kinda got a little shot before shit blew up, and if any part of our intel is right, there’s nothing nearby. There’s... there’s no time, Tony.” 

Tony sat down heavily on one of the bar stools, stomach roiling. “There has to be something I can do. That _we_ can do. Barnes and Cap...” 

“No!” 

The sharpness in Clint’s voice had Tony looking toward the other two men in the room. “Clint, buddy, come on. We can...” 

“You can’t do anything, Tony, okay? It sucks, I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... I’m bleeding out and there’s nothing. They didn’t leave any vehicles intact.” A cough and then Clint spoke again. “Plus, I kind of, um, landed on some metal support thing. It’s possible that it’s stuck. You know, in me. Can’t get out even if there was somewhere to go, and a way to get there.” 

Barnes made a sound Tony hoped he never heard again in his life. Tony forced his attention on his screens. There had to be something he could do. Anything. 

“I’m going to keep trying, Katniss. You keep talking to me.” 

“I know you will.” 

Clint’s voice was fond, and it made Tony fucking ache. He cleared his throat, wiped at something under his left eye. “Hey, how’d you call the Tower, anyway? JARVIS says you aren’t using your cell.” Distractions were good. His mind worked best when it was going down several different paths at once. 

“Comms and shit got crushed. Can't find my cell. Only thing that still works is my watch.” Clint’s tone went smug. “You hate my watch, Tony. Still survived an explosion.” 

“It’s fucking Apple, you dickhead.” 

Clint’s laughter was pained, but it was there, and Tony closed his eyes briefly. Shaking his head, he got back to work. Suddenly he had super-soldiers breathing down his neck and it reminded him he wasn’t alone. Plus... 

“Clint? You want to talk to Steve and the Terminator? I can...” 

“I already told you no.” 

There was that noise again, damn it, and Steve tugging Barnes close. Tony frowned, fingers flying over his keyboard. “Why the hell not, man? You guys have a fight no one knows about?” 

“Course not.” There was a long, pained sigh. “What good would it do? Don’t want ‘em to hear this. Cruel, you know? Make ‘em listen to me...” 

Clint’s voice trailed off. You didn’t have to be a genius to know what he hadn’t been able to say. Tony cleared his throat. “Clint, they’d want to. You know that.” 

“Nope. Steve’s been there, done that. Had to watch, before. He still has nightmares about it.” 

Steve’s cheeks were pink when Tony looked up at him, though he didn’t look away from Tony. Tony gave him a sharp nod. Hell, they all had nightmares, and were fucking entitled, as far as Tony was concerned. 

“Not that I'm comparing myself to Buck or anything. Hell no, man. That’s... love for the ages. Epic. Something.” 

There was so much shock and pain in that blue gaze, and no fucking way was Tony going to be able to keep looking at Steve now. He turned away and pulled up another map. Blinking white dots distracted him and he zeroed in on that as he spoke to Clint. 

“I’ve seen the way they look at you. Don’t play coy, Romeo.” 

Another laugh, much softer than before. “Yeah, they like me okay. ‘s why they don’t need this. You gotta promise me something, Tony, ‘kay?” 

“Anything for you, birdbrain.” 

“You don’t let ‘em know about this. I mean it. When you... you know. Find me and shit. Make it sound like I went out fast. Didn’t suffer. I don’t have to be heroic or some shit. Just… it’ll kill Steve if he knows. And Bucky too. They won’t...” 

“Jesus, Clint.” 

Tony’s gaze flicked to Barnes. It was the first time either he or Steve had spoken, and the watery sound of the man’s voice was something Tony could have done without. He rubbed at his chest, turned back to his blinking map. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, Tony.” 

“What for?” He was listening with half an ear, tightening up a corner of the map, and what the fuck where those dots? It was making him crazy. “JARVIS, get me a better shot from the satellite.” 

“Sorry ‘bout calling you when there’s nothing you can do except listen to me ramble. Just didn’t... you know.” 

“Didn’t what, buddy?” 

“Didn’t want to die alone.” Clint sighed heavily. “Shouldn't have put this on you. Should have been stronger.” 

Tony put both hands on the counter, breathing heavily through the dart of pain in his chest. A big, warm hand settled on his back, rubbing circles and Tony looked up into Steve’s face. There were tears in his eyes that he wasn’t letting fall. Tony took a breath and straightened his spine. 

“You aren’t dying, Clint. I’m going to fucking find... something.” 

“Come on, Tony.” Clint’s voice was soft. “I’m lyin’ in a pool of bodily fluids and there’s metal stuck in me.” 

Tony snorted. “I don’t want to hear about your kinky sex life with the one-armed man, Barton.” 

A pause and then barked laughter. God he fucking loved when Clint laughed like that. 

“Damn it, Stark, that fucking hurts.” 

“Serves you right, putting shit like that in my brain.” 

Tony frowned as JARVIS pulled up the satellite images Tony had asked for. He heard Barnes curse savagely as his own blood ran cold. “Barton, you armed?” 

“Yep. Still got two of ‘em.” 

“Jesus your jokes are terrible. Guns, dumbass. Or your bow.” 

“Nope. Lost my bow when I hit the ground.” 

Clint sounded so mournful about that Tony resolved to make him a new recurve for when he got home. Fuck if he wasn’t bringing Barton home somehow. “Satellite is picking up images. Too dark to clear it up much. It looks like four distinct shapes. They’re coming to you.” 

“ETA?” Clint’s voice was tight. 

“Approximately four minutes, Agent Barton.” 

“Thanks, J.” 

There was the sound of movement, a clanging, and then a choked back scream of pain, followed by a splintering sound that actually came from the kitchen. Tony glanced at Barnes, whose metal fingers were clenched in the countertop. Well. That might be hot if it weren’t so terrifying. And if the circumstances weren’t what they were. 

“What are you up to, Clint?” 

“Pulled out the metal thingy. Gonna be on my own two feet when they...” 

Tony reached out to grip Steve’s T-shirt. “Clint, please let me...” 

Steve broke in. “Do it, Tony.” 

Steve’s voice was commanding and fuck it. Clint deserved to know he wasn’t alone. Tony tapped a few buttons and opened up the link. 

“Clint?” 

A low curse. “Oh, hey, Steve.” 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

A watery laugh and the sounds of whatever the hell Clint was doing. “You know, huh?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Clint. I...” 

“Hey, no, shit. This is why I didn’t want this. No sorrys. No thing your voice is doing right now. I didn’t want you to have this in your head.” 

“I’d rather,” Steve paused to look at Bucky. “We’d rather be with you. No matter what. Please, Clint.” 

“God damn it, Steve. I want to cut this feed, I really do.” 

“You won’t. You and your Apple Watch are going to stay connected, and me and Bucky and Tony are right here.” 

A deep shuddering breath, and when Clint spoke again his voice was firmer than Tony had heard since this shit show had started. 

“Yeah, yeah okay. Shit.” A heavy sigh. “Wasn’t supposed to tell you. This used to be a HYDRA base. Supposed to be shut down, but, well nothing else Hill knew was right.” 

Barnes had gone deathly pale, and Tony watched Steve carefully pry metal fingers from where they were still gripping Tony’s ruined countertop and then thread his own with them. Damn, Cap had balls of steel, considering what that hand was capable of. 

“If that’s HYDRA coming, they may be looking for you because of me.” 

Clint’s sigh was resigned. “Hey, Buck. You shouldn’t be here.” 

“Where else would I be, dumbass?” 

“I’m going to get a complex if you guys keep calling me that.” 

“Agent Barton, if I may?” JARVIS’ voice was smooth and calm. “I have located your bow, in the northeast corner of what’s left of the room you are in. It’s not buried and should be accessible to you.” 

“You’re the man, J.” 

“As are you, Agent Barton.” 

For a second, there was no sound except the shifting of rubble as Clint, presumably, made his way to the corner of the room. Tony was watching the blinking dots get inexorably closer and he fucking hated that this was all he could do. Just watch. There was a cry of triumph from Clint. 

“There you are, baby.” 

Tony snorted; Clint did love his weapons a ridiculous amount. 

“Can’t get eyes up high. You got my back, J?” 

“Of course, Agent Barton. You have incoming in sixty seconds.” 

Tony caught the unmistakable sound of Clint drawing his bow, then a pained cry, and Tony frowned. 

“Clint?” 

“Told you. Got a little bit shot. Fucking hurts to draw. Still taking at least one of these fuckers with me.” 

Long seconds dragged by, and then voices, too indistinct for Tony to catch actual words. He was pretty sure that no one in the communal lounge was even daring to breathe. The voices got closer, and Tony heard Clint take a deep breath, then the sound of an arrow whistling toward its target. A cry that wasn’t Clint’s this time and then a voice that had Tony’s mouth dropping open in shock. 

“Stand down, Agent Barton.” 

“You’re not the boss of me, Coulson.” A beat, and then Tony heard Clint’s laugh. “Shit. I’m dead, aren’t I? No other reason to be seeing a ghost. I’m dead, and I’ve been hallucinating.” 

“I’m not a ghost.” Coulson’s voice was clear from the speakers, calm as ever. “Please put down the bow.” 

“Tony? You there?” Clint sounded a little hysterical. 

“I’m here.” 

“God, of course you are. You’re in my head. Blood loss, pain, the fucking cold.” 

“Agent Barton, I’ve been tracking your vital signs.” JARVIS sounded just as calm as Coulson, which was kind of freaky if Tony thought about it too hard. “You are cold because you are bleeding out. Agent Coulson’s team is standing down. I do believe they are there to help you.” 

“Clint, please.” 

A watery laugh and another arrow being loosed before a third was drawn. “You’re not real. Coulson didn’t... wouldn’t ever... I...” 

Steve’s voice was hard. “Barton.” 

“St... Steve?” 

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.” 

“I don’t know what’s real.” 

The plaintive tone made Tony want to break something. God, Clint would hate this. Tony made a mental note to have JARVIS delete this recording as soon as Clint was safe. 

“You trust me, Hawkeye. I know you do.” 

A shuddering breath and then Clint’s voice. “With my life.” 

“Then listen to Agent Coulson and let him help you.” Steve softened, hope on his face for the first time. “Please, sweetheart. Put the bow down. Let Coulson and his people help you.” 

Long seconds of silence, and then a wavering ‘okay’ from Clint. It sounded like pandemonium broke out and Tony was off his chair, cursing the fact that they only had audio. 

“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded. 

A second and then the voice that Tony had never expected to hear again came over the speakers. “We’ve got him, Stark.” 

“How in the hell is this happening, _Agent_?” 

“Barton’s bleeding out. Do you really want to do this now?” 

“No!” Steve’s voice held a desperation Tony had only ever heard in footage from D.C. “Please, Agent Coulson, just help him.” 

“I will, Captain, you have my word.” Long moments of nothing except voices barking commands back and forth, and then Coulson again. “There’s a S.H.I.E.L.D safehouse in Reykjavik with a medical facility nearby. I’m sending you coordinates, Stark. 

Tony signed off, waiting impatiently until JARVIS had the coordinates. Steve was hugging Bucky close, and Tony allowed himself a smile. Fuck, that had been close. 

“Wheels up in ten, JARVIS.” 

_Chapter 2 - Steve_

Steve was itching to do something concrete to get them to Clint, had to be content to let Tony handle piloting duties for now. JARVIS was busy coordinating with Coulson and getting updates on Clint’s condition. Clint was in surgery and holding his own, and Coulson said the doctors were optimistic. That settled Steve just enough that he could focus on the problem that was right in front of him. 

The Bucky that had come back to Steve was changed in so many ways. This quiet stillness was the most noticeable to Steve. He’d been unnaturally silent, even for him, ever since they’d cut communication with Clint. He was slouched in a seat in the back of the Quinjet, and barely looked up when Steve joined him. 

“Hey, Buck. How you holding up?” 

“’m fine, Stevie.” 

Steve decided not to call him on the obvious lie. Bucky would talk when he was ready and not before. He reached out to take Bucky’s hand, as much for the show of support as needing the comfort of contact for himself. Long moments passed before Bucky spoke again. 

“Who was the man that rescued Clint? It upset him. You and Stark didn’t look much better.” 

Steve leaned back to mirror Bucky’s slouch with a sigh. “That was Agent Coulson. He worked... works, I guess, for S.H.I.E.L.D. He died in the attack on New York. At least we thought he did. He was Clint’s...” 

Steve stumbled over the word, and Bucky went tense before leaping to his feet. “No.” 

“What's wrong?” Steve asked, confused. 

Bucky was pacing, agitation even more clear in the way the plates on his left arm kept realigning. “No. He doesn’t get to come back and just... He’s been lying to Clint for years, and Clint is... he belongs with us. This Coulson can’t have him back.” 

Steve got up and put himself in Bucky’s path, pulled the other man to him. Bucky was trembling, and Steve knew there was so much more going on. He could only fix one thing at a time. “Hey, no, I’m sorry. Coulson and Clint weren’t lovers. He was Clint’s handler. Nat’s too.” 

Bucky relaxed marginally, leaning in to rest his forehead against Steve’s. “You can say the word, jerk. I’m not fragile.” 

Not fragile just recovering from so much. Steve wrapped him up in a tight hug. “He’s going to be okay.” 

“I know.” 

Steve sighed, and held Bucky tighter. As much as he hated it, he was going to have to let Bucky work through this in his own way and time. Maybe when they could see Clint, reassure themselves that he was fine, maybe Bucky would really believe it.

⍟➳✪

Steve tried to hold on to his optimism once they’d reached the hospital. Clint was out of surgery, and in a recovery room where they couldn’t see him. Tony hadn’t been thrilled about the slow pace of the updates Coulson was getting and was threatening to have JARVIS hack the system and get them answers. Coulson, looking a bit ill at ease around them, was trying his best to talk him out of it. Steve himself was standing at rigid attention, gaze glued to the door of the waiting room in the hopes that someone would appear and take them to Clint. Bucky was...

Steve frowned and looked around. Bucky had been right behind him, had somehow disappeared without Steve even noticing. Steve was far less enamored of Bucky’s ‘ninja assassin ways' than Clint was, and his stomach went tight with nerves at the realization that Bucky was gone. He met Tony’s eyes, saw the same concern there that he himself was feeling. Steve was torn between heading out to look for him and his need to stay in case someone brought news of Clint when voices in the hall caught his attention. He hurried out of the room, Tony on his heels. 

He was in time to see Clint being moved into a room, a cluster of people around him, one of whom was his missing significant other. Steve shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. He should have known Bucky wouldn’t just stand around waiting, not for something like this. Steve followed the mass of people into Clint’s room, moved to stand back against the far wall while they got Clint situated. Bucky was hovering enough for both of them. Finally, Clint was in bed and the room cleared out except for Avengers and formerly dead S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Steve supposed he was being uncharitable; he had more important things to worry about. 

Bucky, apparently, did as well. “Why didn’t anyone stay to tell us what's going on?” 

Coulson cleared his throat. “You were still en route when Clint came out of surgery. Dr. Collins, his surgeon, told me she would go ahead and do her rounds so that she would be available for questions as soon as you got in and Clint was settled. I imagine we’ll be seeing her anytime now.” Coulson managed a smile. “This is one of the few S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities where we haven’t found a single member of HYDRA. Agent Barton is in good hands.” 

Bucky made a noise that said very clearly what he thought of that. Clint chose that moment to shift on the bed, a quiet rustling of sheets that pulled super-soldier attention straight to him. He blinked blearily, clearly startled to find himself the object of scrutiny. 

“Umm, hey guys. What’s...” His eyes widened and Steve saw the awareness dawning in them. “Oh wow. I’m not dead.” 

Bucky flinched and Steve moved closer, rested a hand low on Bucky’s back. Clint caught the movement and winced. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. Must be on the really good drugs. Nothin’ hurts, and my mouth...” 

Clint made a hand-wavy gesture that made Steve smile. He rubbed at Bucky’s back then moved around him to go to Clint, leaning down to kiss the corner of Clint’s mouth. 

“Hey sweetheart. Feeling okay right now, huh?” 

Clint made a soft, pleased sound and relaxed back against the pillows. “Even better now.” He peered around Steve. “Hey, Bucky. I’m good. You can come closer.” 

Steve was pretty sure he was the only one who caught the hesitation before Bucky moved forward to stand at Steve’s side. He gave his lover a questioning look. Bucky ignored him, managing a smile for Clint as he reached out to place a hand on his forearm. 

“You should be resting.” 

Clint sighed heavily. “Not gonna have a choice there. Sleepy.” 

“Then I guess I have excellent timing.” 

Everyone turned toward the voice in the doorway, and the woman standing there smiled as she came into the room. 

“I’m Dr. Collins. I operated on your incredibly lucky friend here.” 

“Hi, Doc.” Clint beamed. “So, when are you springing me?” 

Coulson sighed heavily, making Dr. Collins laugh. “Tired of our hospitality already, Agent Barton?” 

Clint squirmed as she opened up his electronic chart. “Well, I got shot and impaled and it’s really fuc... freaking cold here so I kinda just want to go home.” Clint blinked slowly at the groans that followed his pronouncement. “What?! It’s not her fault. She didn’t shoot me.” 

Steve smothered a laugh as he rubbed a hand along Clint’s arm. The surgeon didn’t seem to mind Clint’s babble, if her slight smile was anything to go by. “We’d like to get him home, ma’am. He tends to drive medical staff crazy.” 

Clint grumbled under his breath, though it wasn’t a lie. Steve grinned at him as he rubbed his thumb across the back of Clint’s hand. 

“We’ll see what we can do about that.” Dr. Collins looked up from her tablet. “Do you need anyone to clear out before we go over this?” 

“Nope,” Clint’s reply was delivered with a jaw cracking yawn. “Everybody is family. ‘sides, they’ll follow your orders for me better than I will.” 

“Alright, Agent Barton.” Her tone became more business-like without losing any warmth. “You were in serious condition when Agent Coulson’s team brought you in. Several bullet wounds that were all through and through. We cleaned and stitched those up for you, no problem. The wound in your thigh was much worse. You were lucky enough not to hit the femoral artery or anything else vital. You’re going to limp for quite a while. You will heal, provided you stay off that leg for probably four to six weeks.” 

Clint started to protest until the doctor merely raised a brow. He subsided, grumbling. Steve bit back a grin as she continued. 

“You have fractured ribs from the fall, and that’s where most of your trouble came from. Either the fall itself or the fractured ribs damaged your spleen and we had to remove it completely.” 

Bucky made a small, hurt sound that had Clint scrambling for his hand. “Hey no, Bucky. It’s fine. No big deal. I don’t even know what that thing does. Can’t be that important.” 

Steve rubbed at his temples, sighing, and he could see Tony’s shoulders shaking with mirth. Clint glared at them. 

“I’m serious! If it was important, she’d have left it in there.” 

By this point, Tony had to sit down in a nearby chair he was laughing so hard, and Steve was fighting a smile of his own. Trust Clint to downplay anything that had to do with his own health. Bucky was decidedly not amused. After a moment’s hesitation, he let Clint lace their fingers together and didn’t say a word. 

“You’re half right, Agent Barton. I would have left it in given the choice. You’re going to be more susceptible to infections now. We’ll be giving you a round of vaccinations before you leave, and you should keep to a strict immunization schedule to help keep you healthy.” 

Steve could feel most of the tension leave Bucky’s body as he leaned against Steve, and his own relief made him wish he was sitting down. They’d been running on adrenaline ever since Clint’s phone call, and now that the danger had passed, Steve felt a bit unmoored. 

“So, I can go home then?” Clint was as stubborn as ever. 

“Give us a week, Agent Barton. I don’t want to move you too soon and risk infection. After that, you become your primary care physician’s problem.” 

Dr. Collins was smiling, and Clint clearly didn’t take offense as he gave her a ridiculous wink. “The doctors in the Tower _love_ me.” 

“Oh God,” Tony groaned. “I’m going to have to pay out bonuses after this one, I can feel it now.” 

A nurse came in on that round of laughter and Bucky and Steve moved aside so she could check Clint over and get him settled for the night. After another round of introductions, they were left alone with no medical personnel and no Coulson or Tony either. Steve was grateful to have a minute with Clint where he didn’t feel anyone’s eyes on him except Bucky’s. 

Clint was clearly exhausted, tucked into the blankets with his eyes closed. Steve came over to kiss his cheek, smiling softly when Clint opened his eyes. 

“I really am okay, Steve.” 

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. We can talk more later.” 

Clint didn’t even protest, just glanced over Steve’s shoulder to where Bucky was hovering. When their gazes met, Bucky came forward and gave Clint a kiss as well. Clint made a happy sound and burrowed further into the blankets. 

“’s not home, but I can sleep now.” 

“Good, Bucky and I will be here when you wake up.” 

Steve ran his hand gently over Clint’s hair then turned off the light above the bed. He stood for a minute, just watching Clint sleep, until he heard Bucky leaving the room. Sighing, he gave Clint a last kiss before following Bucky.

⍟➳✪

Turned out that Steve was the only one there when Clint woke up next. When Steve had joined Tony, Bucky, and Coulson in the hallway, Tony was making plans to return home now that they knew Clint was going to be okay. He had responsibilities at SI that he couldn’t put off for long, and he wanted to make sure medical was ready for anything Clint needed when he came home. Bucky had elected to go with him, and Steve had been too stunned to argue.

Four days into Clint’s stay and Steve still wasn’t sure why Bucky had left. He’d brushed off Steve’s questions and concerns, promised to see him soon and left the hospital even before Tony had. Steve hadn’t been able to do anything except shrug at Tony’s questioning look. He knew Bucky was upset and that the hospital atmosphere likely made it worse. He’d been through enough medical trauma as HYDRA’s prisoner that no one could blame him for needing to get out. Steve just wished he believed that was all it was. 

Steve texted Bucky another update then shoved his phone in his pocket, not wanting to see the one-word response he’d inevitably get. He rubbed a hand across his face, shoulders hunched as he stared out the window at the parking lot. Clint’s quiet voice pulled him back into the room. He forced a smile that became more real when he turned to see Clint reaching out for him. 

“Hey you. Nice nap?” 

Clint made a humming sound as Steve bent over the bed for a hug. He tugged insistently and Steve gave in with a laugh, carefully climbing into the bed on the side where Clint didn’t have an IV and beeping machines. 

“Going to get me kicked out of here,” Steve teased as he rested his hand carefully on Clint’s bandaged ribs. 

“Nah, the nurses think we’re cute. Heard ‘em talking when you went down for lunch earlier.” 

Steve blushed a little, leaned down to nose at Clint’s cheek. He wasn’t big on PDA, was used to keeping his relationship with Clint and Bucky an open secret back home. After all the worry, he needed this closeness with Clint. Clint grinned up at him. 

“You’re so cute when you blush. I don’t even know how you still do it.” 

“Between your and Bucky’s filthy mouths, neither do I.” 

“You don’t normally complain about our mouths,” Clint said, giving Steve an overly exaggerated leer. The look faded as Clint sighed, then winced a little when the deep breath tugged at his healing ribs. “I miss him.” 

“I do too. This place just wasn’t...” 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Clint’s words came in a rush. “He’s been through a lot of shit and I know he hates medical. Still miss him.” Clint reached down to take Steve’s hand. “I just want to go home to him.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” 

“I feel good, Steve, I really do. Could we maybe talk to Dr. Collins? See if I can get out of here early? Tony’s got everything at the Tower they have here. More, probably. And the Tower has a Bucky, which they are sorely lacking here.” 

“You’re right about that,” Steve laughed and kissed Clint. “Alright, let me see if I can track her down.” 

Steve laughed again when Clint gave a little cheer and rolled out of bed to do as he’d promised. Clint was right; they needed to be home, and they needed to be with Bucky. 

_Chapter 3 - Clint_

__

__

Clint wasn’t sure where he was when he first opened his eyes. Then the soft lavender of the walls made him grin. He’d joked with Tony that he spent enough time in medical that he should have his own room, named after him and decorated to his tastes. Tony had given him almost exactly that. The color wasn’t close to his uniform color yet it was surprisingly nice to look at when he was stuck here. 

He stretched, winced as various injuries pulled and made themselves known. He was damn lucky, and he knew it. That wouldn’t keep him from complaining much longer. He hated medical and waking up alone sucked. He’d sent Steve to their floor for a shower and real sleep now that they were home. Steve had needed the rest as much as Clint did himself. He’d kind of been hoping Bucky would show up now that he was home. 

Carefully, Clint fumbled around for the controls to the bed and got himself situated in a somewhat comfortable position. His phone was on the bedside table and he turned it on, smiling at the messages from Natasha. She’d been out of the country, would be home late in the evening and Clint couldn’t wait. He’d missed her. There was nothing from Bucky, and it made Clint’s smile fade. He sent his boyfriend a text then tossed the phone onto the bed, staring contemplatively at the ceiling. 

Movement caught his eye, and he looked over, warmth suffusing his chest when he saw Bucky hovering uncertainly in the doorway. He struggled to push himself up, cursing as his ribs twinged. He heard Bucky swear softly before he moved to Clint’s bedside to help. Clint clung to his shirt, grinning up at Bucky despite the pain. 

“There you are, Buck. Been missing you.” 

Bucky smiled back, his eyes shadowed as he bent to kiss Clint. Clint clung harder, the warmth in his chest fading at the look in Bucky’s eyes. Something was off, and it wasn’t like Clint hadn’t known it. The texts from Bucky had been few and far between while Clint was in the hospital. 

“You okay?” 

Bucky snorted. “Supposed to be asking you that.” 

“’m fine. Still kinda high. They gave me more of the good shit before they put me on the Quinjet home.” 

“You’re not hurting then?” 

“Little sore, that’s all.” Clint reached up run his fingers over Bucky’s cheekbone. “I’m good, I promise.” 

Bucky caught his hand, kissed the back of it. His words and gestures were all perfect. Something still had alarm bells clanging in Clint’s brain and he couldn’t shut them off. He started to say something, was stopped when Bucky covered his mouth in a soft kiss. 

“You scared me.” 

The words were a soft admission against Clint’s lips and made his heart ache. “I know. God, I know, and I’m so sorry.” 

Bucky breathed out, rested his forehead against Clint’s. Clint held on tight, trying to control his breathing so his ribs wouldn’t start screaming at him. 

“I can’t promise not to get hurt.” Bucky’s breathing hitched and Clint rubbed a hand down his back. “I swear I’m careful now. I don’t take unnecessary risks. I calculate everything out, so I have the best shot at coming home to you and Steve.” 

Bucky pulled back to kiss Clint again, and it had a desperate quality to it. Clint kissed back, unsure what else he could say or do, and wishing that Steve were here. He’d had months to learn Bucky, but Steve had years of an incredibly close friendship even before they’d fallen in love. No one knew Bucky like Steve did. God, Clint just wanted the chance to know Bucky like that. 

The clearing of a throat broke them apart, Bucky’s hand sliding down Clint’s arm to his hand so he could tangle their fingers together. Clint rolled his eyes at their visitor. 

“You have shit timing, Coulson.” 

“Hmm. That’s not what you were saying a few days ago, Agent Barton.” 

Bucky was bristling, though Clint didn’t know if it was because of the reminder of how close Clint had come to not being here or because he didn’t know who Coulson was. Clint squeezed his fingers reassuringly. 

“Bucky, let me introduce you to my formerly dead former handler, Agent Coulson.” 

Coulson didn’t react at all to Clint’s teasing, as per usual. “It’s a pleasure, Sergeant Barnes.” 

Bucky didn’t let go of Clint’s hand, which had him offering the metal one to Coulson. Coulson took that in stride as well, coming forward to shake hands with Bucky. Clint was kind of impressed with Coulson’s quiet manner, considering he knew how much of a fanboy the agent was over Cap and Bucky. 

“How’d you find Clint anyway?” Bucky asked, voice gruff. 

“I’m afraid that’s classified.” 

Coulson’s enigmatic smile was the same one he always wore, and Clint burst out laughing. “You haven’t changed a bit, sir.” 

“Maybe a little,” Coulson demurred. 

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Bucky pulled his hand away. Clint made a little sound of protest that had Bucky shooting him a small smile. 

“I’ll let you catch up with your... with Agent Coulson. I’m going to go up and get Steve. We’ll be back down in a bit.” 

Clint watched him go as Coulson pulled up a chair. As happy as Clint was with Coulson’s reappearance in his life, he couldn’t help wishing the agent had chosen a different time to check on him.

⍟➳✪

Clint had his best bro reunion with Natasha and had then been given enough pain meds to knock him out. He’d grumbled at the necessity even though his ribs were pulling, and he knew he needed the sleep. He just wanted to heal up enough they’d let him go upstairs to the floor he shared with his boyfriends. He didn’t think it was too much to ask. Steve had laughed and agreed when Clint had said as much as they’d had dinner together, everyone sprawled around in Clint’s room. Bucky hadn’t said much from his corner of the room, hadn’t left either.

Clint had become resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to fix anything while he was stuck in medical. Upon waking, he’d promptly begun badgering medical staff to clear him to go home. The staff was well used to him at this point and refused to give in until they got back whatever last-minute test results they were waiting for. Clint grumbled his way through breakfast, though he had a good feeling about his chances. 

His nurse had left after playing another round of pincushion with Clint’s ass. He was not a fan of all the vaccinations they’d deemed necessary. He shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable, and looked up with a smile when Bucky walked in. 

“Perfect timing. I think they’re about to spring me. Want to walk me home, Bucky?” 

Bucky didn’t return his grin; instead, his shoulders hunched, and his gaze darted around the room before landing on Clint. Clint’s stomach went tight. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t do this.” 

Bucky’s voice was so soft that Clint could almost tell himself that he’d misunderstood the words. Almost. Still, he made himself ask. 

“Can’t do what, Bucky?” 

“This!” Bucky gestured sharply between them. “Me and you. We... you almost died, Clint. Every time you go out... I can’t, okay? I just can’t.” 

Bucky was nearly hyperventilating, and Clint forced himself off the bed. He hadn’t taken more than a step when Bucky flinched and stepped back. 

“Don’t. Just... please, Clint. I _can’t_.” 

Bucky sounded so desperate that Clint just nodded his head. The relief that spread across Bucky’s face was like a slap. Clint’s eyes burned and he tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling as he blinked back tears. When he looked back down, Bucky was gone.

⍟➳✪

Steve was coming down the hall with three cups of coffee when he saw Bucky sprint out of Clint’s room. One look at his face had Steve dropping the cups and running to meet him.

“What happened, Bucky? Is it Clint?” 

“He’s fine. I have to go.” 

Bucky wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he was shaking. Steve wanted to hold on, demand an answer, though he knew it wouldn’t help. Besides, he had to see Clint for himself. There were no alarms, no nurses running. Clint had to be alright. It still didn’t explain Bucky’s reaction and Steve had to know. 

Steve skidded into the room to find Clint kneeling on the floor by the bed. He rushed to Clint’s side, confused as to why Bucky would have left knowing Clint needed help. He rested a hand on Clint’s forearm, and Clint made a wounded sound. 

“Clint, sweetheart, look at me. Please?” Clint’s eyes were a kaleidoscope of color that Steve always ached to draw. Now they were full of confusion and pain, a sheen of tears he hadn’t let fall. Steve cupped his face in his hands. “Where are you hurt?” 

“Everywhere. All of me. I...” 

He shuddered and Steve tightened his grip on Clint’s arm. “Let me grab the call button for the nurse.” 

That same hurt sound again, and then Clint was pushing away from Steve and trying to stand. “Nothing they’ve got will help.” Clint made it to his feet, swayed a bit until Steve stood and steadied him. “He left me.” 

“What?” 

“Bucky. He came in and he... he said he couldn’t. With me anymore. And he left. He...” Clint’s breathing was hitching, and he wrapped an arm around himself to support his ribs. “He left us. Or me?” Clint’s laugh was brittle. “God, I don’t even know. He just said he couldn’t be with me anymore.” 

Steve looked at Clint, stunned. “No. That can’t... he loves you Clint.” 

Clint’s sigh was resigned. “Not enough, I guess.” 

Steve shook his head. None of this made sense. For now, he needed to get Clint back to bed. Clint made no protest as Steve got him situated, tucked him in. He smoothed Clint’s hair back, kissed him gently. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

Clint finally stirred, reached for Steve. “Wait, what?” 

Steve took Clint’s hand, squeezed his fingers. “I need to find Bucky, find out what’s going on.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

The bewilderment in Clint’s tone broke Steve’s heart. “Not for long, sweetheart, I swear. I just have to find Bucky.” 

Steve couldn’t read the expression that crossed Clint’s face before Clint nodded. “Right. Of course.” 

Relieved, Steve bent to kiss him again. “I’ll be back soon.”

⍟➳✪

Two hours later, Steve stepped out of the elevator onto the medical floor. Bucky hadn’t been anywhere in the Tower, and he hadn’t been any of the places that he and Steve liked to go. He wasn’t answering calls but had finally answered Steve’s increasingly frantic texts with a curt ‘need to be alone be back in the morning.’ Resigned, Steve had returned to the Tower, knowing there was no way he was going to find Bucky when he clearly didn’t want to be found.

Emotionally drained, he stepped into Clint’s room, stopping short when he found Natasha and Tony in a terse conversation with Clint’s nurse. Clint wasn’t in bed, and Steve’s stomach lurched. “What’s wrong? Has Clint had a setback?” 

All three turned to him, and after a weird, silent conversation between Tony and Natasha, Tony left the room, still quietly conferring with the nurse. Once alone, Natasha turned a heated glare on Steve. 

“What the hell happened here today?” 

Taken aback, Steve frowned at her. “Clint didn’t tell you?” 

Natasha eyed him for a moment then shook her head. “You need to tell me.” 

“I can’t, I don’t really know either. I ran into Bucky earlier and he looked awful. Clint said... Clint said Bucky had left him.” 

Natasha looked as surprised by that as Steve had been. 

“I helped Clint back into bed and went to find Bucky. I thought if he explained we could...” 

“Wait a minute.” Natasha’s voice had gone cold. “Are you telling me that you left him after that?” 

“Yes?” That wasn’t a question, and yet her tone made Steve fidget. “I mean, not really. I told him I needed to find Bucky and I’d be back.” 

Natasha cursed. Steve assumed, anyway, since it was in Russian. Before he could ask her to explain what was going on, Tony came back into the room. 

“I’ve had JARVIS checking everywhere. There’s no trace.” 

“There won’t be.” 

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Steve didn’t even care how desperate he sounded at this point. 

Natasha gave him a look that froze Steve’s blood. “Clint’s gone.” 

Steve’s knees buckled, and he barely noticed Tony helping him into a chair. All his focus was on Natasha. “What do you mean he’s gone?” 

“What did you think was going to happen, Steve? Bucky left him, and when he needed you, you did the same damn thing.” 

“No, that’s not... I needed...” 

“You needed to find Bucky more than you needed to be with Clint in that moment. You know Clint well at this point. What do you think that said to him?” 

Steve stared at her, remembering the look on Clint’s face when he’d realized that Steve was leaving. Remembering his voice telling Tony that he knew Steve and Bucky were ‘epic.’ “Oh God.” 

_Chapter 4 - Tony_

Tony had been through a lot, both before becoming Iron Man, and after. Still, he could safely say that the couple of months after Clint left the Avengers had been pure hell. Bucky had returned the next day, as promised, but he and Steve barely spoke to one another. The friendship Natasha and Steve had been forging cooled considerably with the loss of their archer, and Tony kept waiting for the day when she left the Avengers as well. The team, the family, they had been building had fractured, and Tony didn’t know how to fix it. 

Tony sighed and leaned back in his chair, gaze on the bow gathering dust on a shelf. He felt bad about that, sometimes. If Clint wanted the damn thing in good shape, he could come back and take care of it himself. He closed his eyes, rubbing absently at his temple. It was crazy, how much he missed having Barton around now that the man had disappeared on them. 

“Still nothing, JARVIS?” 

“I’m afraid there is still no word on Agent Barton’s location, sir.” 

Tony had known that before he’d asked. JARVIS wouldn’t keep that information to himself. He knew how important it would be to the team. To Tony. Christ, he just wanted to know Barton was okay. 

“Sir, if I may. You have been in the lab for over thirty-six hours. Perhaps a meal and some sleep would be appropriate.” 

Tony sighed again. JARVIS being right didn’t mean Tony wanted to go upstairs. The common room would either be empty or filled with teammates that didn’t speak to one another. If he went up to the penthouse, he’d be just as alone. 

“If I sleep down here, will that be good enough?” 

“As I am unable to stop you….” 

“No guilt trip, J. Okay?” 

There was a long pause before JARVIS replied. “Sleep well, sir.” 

Tony figured he could at least give it a shot.

⍟➳✪

Two weeks later, they were called out on a mission that went bad so fast it nearly made his head spin. Thor was in Asgard, and Bruce had elected to stay on the ‘jet unless the Hulk’s presence became necessary. That left the two geriatrics, himself, and Natasha, and that should have been fine. It wasn’t as if they were fighting off an alien invasion. Their most pressing concern was the small cache of Chitauri weapons that had popped up unexpectedly.

It should have been easy. This was just a gang of petty criminals, not a single enhanced person, HYDRA operative, or super villain wannabe in the whole bunch. Just a bunch of dicks who’d stumbled across some weapons that were supposed to have all been retrieved by the Department of Damage Control. Tony wasn’t naïve enough to think that they had found every single piece of Chitauri weaponry. There had been too much destruction and chaos to keep it all contained. Still, since destroying the Chitauri Command Center had shut down all the aliens and tech on the ground, Tony had assumed that meant that all the weapons were dead. 

Yeah, he knew what you got when you assumed. 

Someone out there was smart enough to have figured out how to reactivate the weapons and had then started selling them. Tony hoped they could find them all quickly. They would be deadly in the wrong hands. As evidenced by the group that had managed to kick some Avenger ass. Sure, they’d had the help of alien tech and the fact that the Avengers couldn’t get their shit together in the field. Their timing was constantly off due to lack of communication, and it was a sorry group that finally managed to take out the would-be bank robbers, rescue the hostages, and then retreat in bewildered silence. Tony was fuming as he followed the group onto the Quinjet. He let the faceplate of his suit retreat as he stood and surveyed his ‘team.’ 

“Okay, what the fuck just happened here?” 

He saw Steve wince, and didn’t care. Every member of the team was battered and bruised, and Bucky was cradling his left arm in a way that suggested damage of some sort. He scrubbed a hand wearily down his face. 

“We just got our asses handed to us by amateurs. A bunch of rookies just managed to fuck up the Avengers.” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped, the bruise on his temple standing out starkly against the paleness of his skin. “I know.” 

“Do you? Because your pal, the Winter Soldier? HYDRA’s best assassin? He just got taken out by the minor leagues, Cap. My fucking suit is dented.” Not to mention his ribs. “Maybe they had advanced weaponry, but we’re the fucking Avengers.” 

Natasha had lowered herself carefully down onto one of the benches, favoring her right side. “You’re throwing that word around. That’s not like you.” 

“Yeah, well, Barton’s not here to say it. Someone has to take up the slack.” It was petty, and he felt it as the hit registered. “I don’t like that he’s gone either, but we have got to get our heads out of our asses.” 

No one met his eyes except for Bruce, and Tony threw his hands up in exasperation. He stomped out of the ‘jet, figuring one of his idiot teammates could fly them back to the Tower. Tony wasn’t in the mood to stick around.

⍟➳✪

Because JARVIS was a bully who had threatened to tattle on him to Pepper, Tony found himself in medical. He was, for probably the first time in his life, too tired to argue. He also didn’t want Pepper involved since they were on another one of their breaks. Tony was too exhausted to hear I told you so.

Medical pronounced him bruised, not broken, which Tony already knew. They sent him off with painkillers he eschewed in favor of booze when he got to his personal floor. He stripped off his sweaty clothes with a grimace, topped off his glass of scotch, and wandered into the bathroom. A shower would probably be great right now except he was too tired to stand. Instead, he took a page from Pepper’s book (ignoring the pain at the thought), filled the tub with almost-too-hot water and some scented oil and sank down to soak away the aches. 

It was surprisingly relaxing, and he only felt a little stupid doing it alone. He could practically feel the heat melting tense muscles and easing the bruising. He debated taking one of the painkillers he’d been given despite the scotch before deciding it was a bad idea. Between the bath and the booze, he’d be fine. He drifted, occasionally sipping from the glass while his mind wandered. He had a good grip on some upgrades for the suit when JARVIS broke in quietly. 

“I apologize for disturbing you, sir. I have a very brief sighting of Agent Barton.” 

Tony sat up fast enough that he had to grab his aching ribs. “Shit. Okay, show me.” 

A screen appeared and Tony scowled impatiently as JARVIS tightened up a section of a city block. He didn’t recognize any of the buildings, which didn’t mean anything. Tony had been too many places, and most cities, especially the bigger ones, looked alike. Then JARVIS pulled the map back and Tony got a look at the view. 

“What the hell is he doing in Chicago?” 

“I believe he was getting on a bus, sir.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, got that part. Where was he before?” 

“I’ve been scanning security footage from the area, trying to pinpoint where Agent Barton was before he appeared onscreen. I have not been able to find anything.” 

JARVIS sounded impressed, as much as an AI could, anyway. Tony agreed; Barton certainly knew his stuff. This was the first glimpse he’d had in the weeks the man had been gone. 

“I don’t suppose we have footage of wherever he got off?” 

I’m afraid not, sir.” 

Tony sighed, unsurprised, and slid back down in the tub. “Alright, keep looking. He popped up once, it’s got to happen again.” 

Tony could hope, anyway. Something had to give, and soon. Tony just hoped it wasn’t the team.

⍟➳✪

Tony slipped into the dim bar, doing his best to stay unobtrusive. It wasn’t something he had a lot of practice with. Still, when you were trying not to alert a wayward archer to your presence, it was necessary. JARVIS had barely gotten a glimpse of Barton ducking into this bar before Tony had been off.

He’d elected to drive since the suit attracted too much attention. It wasn’t the first time that Tony had wondered if he maybe should have gone with less flashy colors. As soon as he’d gotten close enough to the bar to gauge the area Barton was keeping company in, Tony knew he should have flown after all. He'd parked four blocks from the bar, in a lot that was essentially a back alley and figured he'd be lucky if the car stayed put. Not that it mattered. Finally talking to Barton was the important part. 

Now he stood quietly near the door, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and his ears unravel the cacophony of sound. He wouldn’t have thought this was the standard watering hole for the domesticated Hawkeye; then again, Tony really didn’t know what Barton had gotten up to before becoming an Avenger. Maybe this was like old home week. To Tony, it felt like a fight waiting to happen. 

Raucous cheering from the back drew his attention and he maneuvered his way around haphazardly placed tables and standing patrons until he found an even dimmer back area housing three pool tables. He looked over the various players until a certain ripple of muscle drew his eye. He’d know those biceps anywhere. He let his gaze wander the bent over form, and huh. Hawkeye had a really nice ass out of tac pants. Painted on blue jeans did way more for his thighs than his standard uniform did. Tony leaned against a pillar and folded his arms across his chest, content to watch for the moment. 

A moment was about all it took for Barton to wipe the floor with his current opponent and move on to the next. Tony would feel bad for the guy, except who took on Hawkeye at something like this? Of course, they probably didn’t realize it was Hawkeye, he reasoned. Barton wasn’t the most well-known Avenger, still tended to stick to the background anytime they weren’t fighting. Tony figured it had something to do with being a former spy. Current spy? Tony was fuzzy on the details with S.H.I.E.L.D. being decimated yet trying to recover. 

His attention went back to the game when he heard a low rumbling start up that meant nothing good. Unless Barton was trying to start a bar fight. In that case, everything was peachy. Tony sighed when the first punch was thrown and stepped back a bit. He didn’t have anything against bar fights, per se. He just didn’t want anyone to notice Tony Stark. He tried hard not to end up in the news these days. Not for booze and bar fighting, anyway. 

He ducked when a pool ball came flying at his head, sidestepped a leather-clad body that came sailing from the back of the bar to land on a table behind Tony. He was kind of impressed; the guy wasn’t a lightweight, and Barton had still gotten some height on that throw. He moved further into the dimness of the back to check on him. He was still holding his own though he was outnumbered. He seemed incredibly happy for a guy who was currently dodging punches from a gang of leather daddies. Eh, what did Tony know? Maybe that was exactly how Barton liked to spend his time these days. Tony couldn’t judge. 

The heightened emotions from the fight had the air feeling heavy, and Tony was getting very interested. He didn’t think anyone could blame him. Barton was a beautiful fighter, all lithe grace and almost dance-like moves. Tony wondered if that was Natasha’s background in ballet showing. Combine that with the archer’s arms, not to mention that ass in those blue jeans, and Tony was enjoying himself as much as Barton seemed to be. Tony skirted around several pool tables to get a better look. As he did, movement to his left caught his attention just before familiar blue light shattered the dimness. He cursed and hit the floor, was able to see Barton doing the same as a window shattered behind him. 

He heard Barton saying a few choice words and then he was coming in low on the man who had shot at him. He hit the guy hard enough in the stomach that even Tony heard the air leave the man’s lungs. Then the pair were hit from the side by one of the seemingly endless supply of leather goons and the trio went out the broken window and into the alley behind the bar. Cursing, Tony followed. 

Time became a haze the way it always did for Tony during a fight. He couldn’t have said if it took them 10 minutes or hours to thin the throng. Eventually he and Barton stood back to back in the alley, groaning bad guys littered at their feet. Tony winced as he straightened up, bright red and gold metal disappearing into the bracelet around his wrist. In retrospect, he should've known the fancy-meeting-you-here casual drink he'd tried to maneuver would turn into an all-out brawl given the company...and the location. Barton's neighborhood preference was as sketchy as Tony's motives. 

Tony slumped against a convenient dumpster, surreptitiously adjusting his ruined pants as he did so. The full suit hadn't been necessary; he'd only activated the bracelet when the hoard in the alley had gotten thick enough to almost bury Barton. Speaking of Barton... 

Tony glanced around to find him breathing hard, surprised he was still all in one piece. Feet planted a shoulder length apart, fingers opening and closing as if they were still trying to figure out why he wasn't holding a bow, the archer's eyes gleamed with unholy glee, his smile a gash of blood-stained white in the darkness. Barton rolled his shoulders, winked at Tony. 

"Not bad for a pretty rich boy," he huffed, stepping over a slumped body and deliberately dragging the toe of his boot over cracked ribs. Another step gave him a clear view of Tony and the grin widened. They were fucking wrecked, battered and bloody, but he was Clint-fucking-Barton and Tony knew he saw everything. Barton appraised him for a moment before nodding sharply. 

"Want to fuck?" 

Tony's eyes widened; Barton laughed and cocked his head, clearly waiting for an answer. Tony's knees nearly went, and his elbow slid on the dumpster as his balance went to hell. 

"Uh..." Words, Tony, sentences. He was on a mission and that mission wasn't to fuck Barton into oblivion. "What?" 

That grin morphed into a smirk and Tony's cock jerked, hard, as the other man took another step. "Come on, Tony." 

The voice was a purr, a growl that crept up the back of Tony's neck to lick at his ears and, oh yeah, he could see just why the grumpy old men had been so hot for bird-boy. Barton licked his lips as he stepped even closer to prop a hand beside Tony's elbow, voice so low Tony had to lean in. Had to. 

"We're both hyped as fuck, Tony. I can see how hard you are. Don't have that fancy suit to hide it." 

The mission, the _mission_ , Tony's brain shrieked. "Barton." Clearing his throat, Tony leaned back. At least, he'd meant to lean back. "Clint, listen, I know you're hurting right now, and this might seem like a good idea. You know it’s not. You're still in love with..." 

Barton's interruption was immediate, knee nudging Tony's leg as the archer reached down to cup his own cock, thumb tracing the fly hypnotically. Wait, was hypnosis a thing? Tony felt like it had to be. He was being mesmerized by an archer with terrible fashion sense and amazing biceps. 

"What's love got to do with it?" 

Tony jerked, tearing his gaze from the outline of Barton's dick under worn denim to focus on his friend's face. His lips twisted into an answering smirk, because really? Bad idea, such a bad idea. Completely off mission, out of scope, not within the boundaries of what was appropriate. Goddam it, he still wanted to lick the blood off Barton's teeth. Fuck the mission. 

"Okay, Tina, let's do this." 

_Chapter 5 - Tony_

There was still the matter of a very loud bar fight that had definitely not gone unnoticed. Add in alien weapons and Tony knew they should stay. There was no way Brooklyn PD was equipped to deal with Chitauri weapons. Barton had merely shrugged and called Agent to come clean up his mess. Tony supposed some things never changed. 

Coulson managed to arrive before the press and their second miracle came to pass when they reached the lot Tony had parked in and found his car still there. Tony had barely gotten the door unlocked before Barton was manhandling him into the back. 

"I'm too old to fuck in the back of a sports car, Barton." 

"Would you rather fuck in the alley where people can take pictures?" 

"Been a while since I starred in a sex scandal," Tony mused. 

Barton snorted, pulling the door closed behind them and shutting them into a world of their own. It was too early for the area bars to empty out, and the tinted windows would guard against prying eyes. Barton shoved his legs apart and crawled in between them, palming at Tony through his slacks. He let out a low moan, fingers sliding behind Barton’s neck to pull him into a kiss. It was just as fierce and bloody as Tony had imagined in the field, and his cock jumped under Barton’s hand. He got a grin for that before Barton undid his pants and slid his hand inside. A calloused thumb rubbed over his slit, making Tony's hips jerk into Barton's touch. 

"Want to taste you." 

"Fuck." 

Barton laughed as he slid down off the seat and onto the mat. He grinned up at Tony as he licked his lips. Tony didn’t even have a chance to react to that before Barton was tugging Tony’s pants down to his knees. He grasped Tony’s cock in one calloused hand, leaned in to lick at the head. He made a little pleased noise that made Tony shiver. There was no teasing after that, no build up. Just a quick drop of Barton’s head that allowed him to take Tony in completely. Tony cursed, head falling back to bang against the seat. 

Barton’s eyes flicked up to his, full of amusement, and how had Tony never noticed how ridiculous they were? There had to be at least four different colors there and why the fuck was he thinking about Barton’s _eyes_ when the man had just swallowed him whole? 

“You could... fuck.” Tony’s breath hitched as Barton swallowed around his cock. “You could pretend that was harder.” 

Barton pulled off with a dirty sounding pop. “Been practicing that move a long time. Just enjoy it, Tony.” 

There was no arguing with that, mostly because Tony would much rather get his dick sucked than think about who Barton had been practicing on. He rested his hand on the back of Barton’s head, fingers clenching as if trying to grab onto something. Barton didn't really have enough hair to pull so he sagged against the seat and let Barton move as he would. His hips shifted restlessly as he worked to not just shove up into the heat of Barton's mouth. He was closer to orgasm than he would have liked, his stamina apparently no match for Barton's mouth. The man was a goddamn cocksucking pro, Jesus Christ. 

Barton pulled back again, laughing, and Tony realized his mouth had run off without permission from his brain. He grinned down at Clint and shrugged. 

“Can’t blame me. You’re fucking talented, Barton.” 

He reached down to catch at Barton’s shirt and tug. Barton came smoothly to his knees, one brow cocked. 

“You don’t want me to suck you off?” 

“Adrenaline’s kind of riding my ass, Barton.” He gave Barton a cheesy leer that made him laugh. “Was thinking maybe you’d like to do the same.” 

Heat flashed in Barton’s eyes, and Tony’s grin turned feral. It’d been too long since he’d been with a guy and Tony wasn’t turning down the chance to get fucked if that was something Barton was into. Judging by the look on his face, it absolutely was. 

“Yeah, okay. We can definitely do that.” 

Tony got rid of his shoes and pants while Barton dug his wallet out of his back pocket. Tony was pondering removing his jacket and shirt (he’d gotten used to keeping the arc reactor hidden and still wasn’t used to it not being attached) when Barton cursed. 

“What? Getting cold feet?” Tony made sure his tone was carefully joking. 

“No, just...” Barton sighed. “I’ve got lube, no rubbers. I haven’t needed them.” 

Well. That made sense. Barton was sleeping with super-soldiers. Or, had been. Tony knew enough about the serum to know Steve didn’t get sick and apparently Barnes’ knock-off was good enough that it worked the same for him. 

Tony lassoed his wandering thoughts when he noticed that Barton was watching him with a cocked eyebrow. He shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of his dress shirt. 

“I’m game if you are. Left my playboy days far behind.” That arched brow went higher, and Tony rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to. I’m just saying I’ve got a clean bill of health and I don’t mind getting messy.” 

Barton shook his head. “Didn’t mean anything by it. I trust you. Just surprised, I guess.” He glanced down at the suit pants lying on the floor mat. “I mean, we’re going to ruin a what? Three-thousand-dollar suit?” 

It was closer to five; Tony figured Barton would find that weird. The man’s entire wardrobe consisted of denim and flannel. Tony’s gaze traced the line of Clint’s biceps, bared by his T-shirt. The look worked for him. Still, definitely not a Tom Ford kind of guy. 

“It’s from last season’s line anyway.” 

There was a second of silence before Barton burst out laughing. “Well, alright then. Fuck the suit.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and would have had a snarky comment for that, was distracted from it when Barton leaned in and kissed him. That was a program Tony could get with and he kissed back, sucking on Barton’s tongue as he reached between them to undo Barton’s jeans. He managed to get them down under Barton’s ass, but not any further and he cursed. 

“Told you this car was too small to be fucking in.” 

“Hang on.” 

Barton pulled back and somehow got his shoes and jeans off without knocking himself out on the low roof of the car. He moved to sprawl on his back on the seat next to Tony, ripped open the lube packet and began slicking his cock. Tony bit his bottom lip, gaze glued to the show Barton was putting on. 

"You really need to be fucking me." 

Barton grinned. "Impatient." 

"Yep," Tony said unrepentantly. "There was fighting, and now I'd like the fucking. Let's go, Barton." 

"Clint." 

The word was a low mumble as Clint squeezed the last of the lube out of the packet and dropped the empty wrapper onto the floor mat. 

"What was that?" 

"My name," Clint said, amused. "I'm about to put my dick in your ass. Think you can call me Clint." 

Tony moved to straddle Barton's… Clint's thighs, grinned as he reached down to cup his balls in his hand. 

"Alright then, Clint. Get in me." 

Clint reached between Tony’s thighs with slick fingers. He rubbed a calloused fingertip over Tony's hole, making Tony groan. Clint's lips twitched in a little smile before he was pushing two fingers slow and easy into Tony. Tony arched into the touch, ignoring the faint burn. It had been long enough since he'd done this that he should be asking Clint to slow down. He didn't want that. He wanted the bite of pain, wanted the rush of adrenaline. 

"'m good." Tony shifted forward, kneeling over Clint’s cock. "Fuck me." 

Clint took him at his word, pulling his fingers free and reaching to hold his cock steady. He rubbed the wet head against Tony’s hole, making both of them groan. 

"Just get in me already, fuck." 

Clint barely hesitated before positioning his cock and pushing in, the head of his cock stretching Tony impossibly wide. Tony moaned, cock jerking against his belly as Clint eased his way inside. He was average length, almost ridiculously thick, and Tony found himself grateful that Clint didn't just shove in and go for it. By the time Clint’s balls hit Tony’s ass, Tony felt so full he could barely fucking breathe. 

"Christ, Clint." 

Clint grinned at him as he rubbed his hands along Tony’s thighs. “You want to drive now?” 

“Nope. Told you to fuck me so get on with it.” 

Clint laughed, those warm hands moving to Tony’s waist as he pulled slowly out of Tony’s body. He paused with the head of his cock keeping Tony open, fingers digging into Tony’s hips as he shifted his hips minutely before slamming into Tony and hitting his prostate dead on. Tony cried out, fingers scrambling to get a grip on Clint's shoulders. Clint's grin went smug. 

"I never miss." 

That surprised a laugh out of Tony. It was weird, right, to be amused during sex. Then again, Tony didn't sleep with people he considered friends (Pepper didn't count – she was her own category) so maybe it was normal when you liked someone. He rolled his eyes, lifted up onto his knees a little more so Clint could fuck up into him. 

"Put your money where your mouth is, Hawkguy." 

Clint took him at his word, fucking up into Tony at a brutal pace that lit up that sweet spot until Tony thought he might die. He groaned, rolled his hips down to meet Clint’s thrusts, sweat sliding down his spine under his dress shirt. He blinked down at Clint, noticed the beads of sweat dotting his hairline and turning his blond hair darker. The windows were fogging over and if anyone walked by outside, they’d know what was going on in here, even if they couldn’t see in. 

And Tony did not give one single fuck. 

He sat up straighter, cursing when he damn near brained himself on the roof of the car. Clint laughed, grabbed tight to Tony’s hips as he slouched down on the seat. That helped a little, though Tony kept one hand braced on the roof above his head just in case. He was not going to medical with sex related injuries, thank you very much. 

He pulled off Clint’s cock, rolled his hips back down as Clint thrust up, both of them groaning when the move buried Clint deep. Tony reached for his cock. Clint batted his hand away, wrapped calloused fingers around Tony’s dick. Tony groaned, hips rolling as he rode Clint’s cock, clever fingers stroking his dick and making his balls draw up tight. This was not going to last long at all. 

Tony made the most of it, finding a quick, dirty rhythm that had the head of Clint’s dick hitting that sweet spot every time he filled Tony. Clint worked Tony’s cock expertly, thumb rubbing at the wet head on every upstroke and making Tony curse. Clint himself wasn’t a talker, which didn’t surprise Tony at all. The archer never had much to say in most situations. He still made the most gorgeous noises as Tony rode his cock and Tony wanted to know what he sounded like when he came. 

Tony settled himself in Clint’s lap, grinding down on Clint’s cock and making him gasp. Tony leaned in to bite at Clint’s bottom lip. Clint reached up to wrap his free hand around Tony’s nape and keep him still while Clint ravished his mouth. He sucked on Clint’s tongue, swallowing his moan when Tony ground down on him again. He broke the kiss, panting. 

“’m close, Clint. Want to feel you come in me.” 

Clint cursed savagely, wrapped both arms around Tony’s waist to hold him still. Tony mourned the loss of Clint’s hand on his dick until he started fucking up into him with sharp thrusts of his hips that lit up Tony’s whole body. He somehow managed to worm his hands between them and shove Clint’s T-shirt up so he could rub off on Clint’s frankly ridiculous abs. The sparse hair on Clint’s belly rubbed the sensitive head of his cock just right and Tony knew it wasn’t going to take much more. Then Clint was shoving in deep, his head thrown back as he cried out and came deep inside Tony. Tony shuddered in his grip, the pulsing heat of Clint coming inside of him enough to tip Tony over the edge as well. 

When it was over, he slumped against Clint with a little groan. Clint huffed a soft laugh, arms loosening from around Tony’s waist so he could slide his hands under Tony’s shirt and rub at his back. It felt good, if unexpected. Clint wasn’t generally tactile with anyone that wasn’t one of his super-soldier boyfriends. Or Natasha. Not that Tony was going to complain, hell no. 

“Think we pretty much ruined your suit,” Clint said, warm hands mapping the muscles of Tony’s back. 

“It gave its life for a good cause,” Tony said. “I’m not even upset about it.” 

Clint didn't seem in any hurry, so Tony allowed himself to slump against Clint's body and enjoy the petting. Clint was still mostly hard inside of him, and it felt good to still be full. They could take a minute or two to enjoy the afterglow. 

"s fucking hot in here." 

Tony laughed when Clint's voice eventually broke the silence. "Yeah, we fogged the windows up pretty good, didn't we?" 

"Hmm." Clint's fingertips were still wandering up and down Tony's spine, making him shiver. "Never actually fucked in a car before." 

Tony lifted his head to look at Clint. "Really?" 

Clint shrugged, gaze on one of the fogged over windows. "Didn't go to high school," he said, voice carefully neutral in the way that told Tony he didn't talk about this. "Despite what action movies might want you to believe, mercs don't generally have time to get it on when they're in the field. And then I joined S.H.I.E.L.D." His grin flashed white in the darkness of the car. "I wasn't stupid enough to fuck in any vehicle that Hill might end up in." 

Tony was going to have to take a minute to process the fact that he'd just learned more about Clint in five minutes than he had in all the time he'd known him. Later, though. That was for later. He knew enough to know that Clint wouldn't be comfortable with any scrutiny. Instead, he grinned down at his teammate. 

"Glad I could pop your sex in a car cherry." 

Clint rolled his eyes, started to grin too. "Except now I can't breathe. Jesus Christ, it's like an oven in here." 

Tony snorted. "Hey, JARVIS. Be a bro and crack the windows, would you?" 

JARVIS didn't say anything. A moment later, the car lights flickered for a second as the auxiliary power kicked on and the windows cracked before the car shut off again. Clint laughed, hand sliding down to cup one of Tony's ass cheeks. 

"Lazy." 

"Comfy," Tony countered. 

Clint gave him a rueful look. "Yeah, well, that's not gonna last much longer. No super-soldier serum for indefinite erections." 

He seemed to realize what he'd said, his face going blank. Tony sighed. 

"Yeah, figured they'd pop up eventually." 

Clint shrugged, that blank mask never wavering. "They're not here in this car, Tony, and I don't want them to be." 

"Liar." 

Anger flickered in Clint's eyes, and he sat up, his softening cock slipping free of Tony's body. Tony made a face as he moved to sprawl on the seat next to Clint. 

"I know you don't want to hear this…" 

"You're going to say it anyway." Clint's voice was hard as he leaned forward to fetch his jeans and wiggle into them. 

"Yeah. When have you ever known me not to say what's on my mind?" 

"Just get on with it," Clint sighed, searching for his shoes. "I've got places to be." 

Rude. Though it wasn't like Tony was surprised. "We're kind of a mess without you, Clint." 

Clint glanced up, clearly surprised. "What?" 

"Widow isn’t speaking to Cap, the popsicles aren’t speaking to each other. We’re a fucking mess. Worse than the Battle of New York." 

Clint's eyes were wide, and Tony shoved himself up from his slouch to find his own pants. 

"Thought we were becoming a family after that DC mess." Tony couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice as he fastened his slacks. "Once Barnes came in from where the hell ever, and we were all in the Tower, it felt different. We weren't just a team." 

"Tony." 

Clint's voice was so soft and yet it felt like sandpaper scraping Tony's skin. 

"It's fine," he said with a grin and a shrug. "I mean, who says we have to be friends. All we have to do is be ready for the next big thing. The only problem is, we're not. We got our asses handed to us a few weeks ago by some amateur bank robbers. Not an enhanced person among them and they still kicked our asses because we can't communicate in the field." 

"Fuck." 

Tony's shoulders slumped. "I'm not saying this to guilt trip you or anything. I know why you needed to go. Just, when you’re ready, come back. We need you.” 

"Steve will pull everyone together. You and him. It's what you do." Clint's lips curled into a small smile. "Once you get done snarking at one another, anyway." 

"Maybe. Not anymore. Steve… Steve doesn't leave the gym much these days." 

"He’s always worked out a lot,” Clint said stubbornly. 

"And Bucky asked for his own floor," Tony barreled on. 

Clint looked at him, stunned. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"What part of the popsicles aren't speaking did you miss?" 

"It's Bucky and Steve. They argue, they don’t fight for real.” 

Tony shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you, man. It's not like either of them really confide in anyone else." 

Clint scrubbed his hands over his face. "I can't come back, Tony. Not right now." 

"Right." Tony found his shoes and slipped them on. "I'm sure everything will be fine." 

Clint reached out and grabbed Tony's forearm. "I can't, okay? I'm working on something with Coulson. It's where I've been. Why I've been off the radar." His gaze never left Tony's, his expression pleading with Tony to understand. "Something big is brewing. I just can't bring in the team. We don't have enough info. This has to stay quiet until we know more." 

Tony let out a breath, reached up rub at his temple. "Okay. Just… be careful. And call me if you need me." 

Clint smiled at him. "Probably won't be able to call. I'll let JARVIS catch site of me. Then you'll know to come running." 

Tony blinked at him, pieces clicking into place. "You let me find you on purpose." 

"Duh," Clint teased. "I needed to let you know I was going dark. Well, darker. I needed to know you'd come if I need the big guns." 

"I thought Natasha was the big guns?" 

Clint laughed at that, and Tony relaxed at the release of tension in the car. "She is. Iron Man's not too shabby as backup. And you're slightly less noticeable than a Quinjet." 

"Asshole." 

Clint grinned though it faded quickly. "It's HYDRA, and I think it's going to be bad. I don't know all the details yet.” 

"Yeah, well, JARVIS and I will be watching." 

"Thank you, Tony." 

Clint slipped out of the back of the car, held out a hand to pull Tony free. They both stretched, laughing at the pops as they worked the kinks out. 

"Way too old for that," Clint said ruefully. "Still fucking fun." 

"It was," Tony said, amused. "Maybe we'll do it again sometime." 

"Maybe." Clint leaned in to kiss the corner of Tony's mouth, cheeks pink. "Gotta run." 

"Alright. Watch your back, Clint." 

"I always do, Tony." 

Tony supposed that would have to be good enough for now. 

_Chapter 6 - Steve_

The problem with spending all his workout time hitting a bag was that it was too monotonous. Hitting something stationary only took muscle memory and it left Steve's brain free to wander. He hated it, had way too much free time to think these days. It was like that endless time after coming out of the ice and before the Battle of New York, when Steve hadn't had anything to do other than work off the helpless rage and frustration that had come with being alive in a time when he knew nothing and no one. He'd never ask for a fight like that one even though it had opened his world up. He'd had a team that day, and though they had gone their separate ways after, S.H.I.E.L.D. had begun to send him on missions, usually with Natasha and STRIKE. Less often, Clint would join them and more rarely, he'd have a solo mission with Clint like the ones he had with Natasha. 

Steve hadn't really understood why the archer had so many solo missions. He'd asked Clint once, while they were holed up in a hotel room in Malta, waiting to get the go ahead to move out. Clint had shrugged, fingers deftly stringing his bow while he thought it over. 

"Nat is great at not being seen if she doesn't want to be. She's still a beautiful woman. It gets noticed." Clint had flashed a grin at Steve. "Without the biceps and bow on display, I'm just another generic white dude wandering the crowd." 

They'd gotten the green light before Steve could form a reply, but he spent a lot of time thinking about Clint's comment. It didn't make sense to him. Even without the bow, and the admittedly eye-catching biceps, Clint was a striking man. Especially when he laughed, which didn't happen often enough, in Steve's opinion. 

Clint had made it impossible to ignore him just by virtue of being _Clint_. He was reserved when on missions, which Steve learned was a byproduct of his time under Loki's thrall. As Clint put distance on that horror, as he healed, Steve got to see the real Clint Barton. He was full of life and mischief, his smile coming more readily and reaching his gorgeous eyes. Still, he didn't laugh often, not unless he was with Natasha. She could get him to let go occasionally, could coax out that deep belly laugh that shouldn't have been attractive but was because it was Clint. Surprisingly, Steve became the only other person that could make Clint relax enough to really laugh. Steve would tease him, and that smile would start, and eventually their ribbing would have Clint laughing hard enough that he'd lean against Steve, his body warm all along Steve's side. Clint trusted him enough to get close, and Steve had done the same. He'd let Clint in. 

The realization had been like a slap in the face. Bucky had been gone for decades as far as most people were concerned. For Steve it had only been a handful of months. Not even properly a year. It didn't matter that people (some people) were more accepting of two men in a relationship. Steve had no right to be noticing anything like that about his teammate, not when he was still grieving the man that was supposed to be his forever. 

He'd pulled back, and he'd known that Clint would notice. He hadn't expected the hurt in Clint's eyes, hadn't expected the way it made him sick to his stomach. What else could he do? He had more than friendly feelings for Clint, and he wasn't ready for them. He needed some space to get his emotions under control. Maybe then he could find a way to get the camaraderie back with Clint without it being anything more. 

Clint let him keep his distance, and while part of Steve was disappointed, he knew it was for the best. Then fate or luck or something conspired to put Clint and Steve on their first solo mission since Steve had pulled the plug on their burgeoning friendship. Clint had been quiet, withdrawn. He was still a professional and the mission had gone without a hitch. Right up until it hadn't. They'd been getting ready to head for the extraction point when they'd been ambushed. It should have been an easy enough fight, even surprised as they were. Clint had left his sniper perch on the roof and was coming to help Steve on the ground when one of the assholes managed to lob a grenade that had taken out the ledge Clint had been standing on. 

It happened so quickly that Steve could only watch, horrified, as Clint had fallen. Enraged, he'd plowed through the group until no one was left standing, desperate to get to Clint. He'd found him sprawled on the ground, one arm curled protectively around his ribs, the other hand with a death grip on his bow. 

"Jesus, Clint." 

Clint gave him a pained smile. "'s okay. Ribs broke my fall." He pushed into a seated position, groaning. "And the fire escape. Fuck that hurts." 

Steve helped him to his feet, ignoring Clint's protests when he pulled him close, wrapped an arm around Clint's waist to help steady him. They made it to the extraction point, had several hours to kill before actually being picked up. Steve wasn't about to wait that long to have medical look Clint over. 

The place they were waiting was a cabin in the woods, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s safehouses. It was small and sparse, with little in the way of furniture. While it was clear the place wasn't meant to be used long term, it at least had basic first aid supplies. Clint was perched on a chair in the kitchen area when Steve brought the kit out of the miniscule bathroom. He saw what Steve was holding and groaned. 

"'m fine, Steve." 

"You fell four stories." 

"More like two before I hit the fire escape. Then two more. Not the same thing." 

"Clint." 

Clint eyed him for a moment before sighing and shutting up. Together they managed to peel down the top of Clint's uniform, lines of pain etched into the corner of Clint's mouth. 

"I'm sorry I'm hurting you," Steve said. 

The apology was for more than the jostling of possibly broken ribs and Clint seemed to know that. His eyes were sad as he studied Steve. 

"Not your fault. I never meant to make you uncomfortable." 

Steve kept his touch gentle as he examined Clint's ribs, feeling for broken bone. Confused, he looked up to find Clint watching him. 

"I don't know what you mean." 

Clint snorted a bitter laugh that quickly became a grunt of pain. "You don't have to lie to me. Everything was fine until you realized that I had a thing for you." 

Steve sat back, stunned. "You think I pulled away from you because of your feelings?" 

Clint must have noticed the slight emphasis on your because his look changed to one of confusion. "Yes?" 

"Clint, no, I swear that's not why. It's because of me. Because I…" Steve ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Jesus, Clint, I just watched you fall off a building and all I could think was that it was Bucky all over again." 

"Oh, shit. Steve." He reached out tentatively and placed a hand on Steve's knee. "I'm fine, okay? I'm sorry that happened. It had to be scary, but it's not the same." 

"Not completely, no. When Bucky fell, I knew exactly what I was losing. With you, if you had…" Steve swallowed hard. "It hasn't been any time at all since Bucky died. I shouldn't feel like this for someone who isn't him. I'm not ready to…" 

Steve watched the myriad of emotions play across Clint's face until he finally seemed to settle on one, a cautious kind of hope. 

"Wow. I never thought… especially after…" Clint bit his bottom lip. "I never knew about you and Bucky. Kind of figured I was nursing a hopeless crush on a straight guy." 

Steve managed a smile. "I'm not straight. And it's not hopeless. I just don't know what to do here, Clint." 

Clint smiled, one of the real ones that reached his eyes. "You don't have to do anything. You said you aren't over Bucky yet and I can respect that. We can be friends, and someday, if you're ready, we can try for more." 

It had been surprisingly easy to do. True to his word, Clint never pushed for more. They fell back into the friendship they'd been forging, tinged with possibility. It hadn't always been easy yet Clint had had Steve's back every step of the way. Falling for Clint had been as easy as breathing. 

Then DC had happened, and Steve's world had been turned upside down. 

With a curse, Steve sent a right hook into the defenseless punching bag, sending it flying across the room to land near the corner, sand spilling all over. A little bot zoomed out of its charging port, beeping happily as it vacuumed up the sand. 

"That looks familiar." 

Steve's spine went tight at the unexpected voice behind him. He wasn't surprised that she could sneak up on him; Natasha had always been able to do that. The fact that she was speaking to him after weeks of silence, especially considering where his head had just been, pissed Steve off. 

"Did you need something?" 

He walked over to the table in the corner where his gym bag sat, already untaping his hands. He glanced at Natasha when she remained quiet. She was watching him, her face unreadable and that pissed him off more. He turned to face her. 

"There a reason you're talking to me now?" 

"Steve, I…" 

"Don't." He cut her off, watched the barest flicker of surprise cross her face. "All those missions. All the time you spent helping me learn how to deal with everything I'd lost. With everything that had changed. I thought we were friends. Hell, you and Clint were the only reason I didn't lose my mind in the beginning." 

It felt good to finally be able to say what was weighing on him, so he didn't stop. "You had my back in DC, when Clint couldn't. You were there for me, helped me find information on Bucky. Then suddenly nothing. You haven't said a word to me in months, Natasha." 

"I know." She didn't apologize, though Steve thought he could read it in her eyes. "I was angry. Clint is family, and it hurts me when he's hurting." 

Steve gave her a sad smile as he picked up his duffle bag. "I know he is. I just thought we were something too. Then you turned your back on me the second I screwed up. I'm not…" He shook his head. "I'm not ready to talk to you right now." 

He left the gym, heading upstairs to his floor on the Tower, resigned to spending another night alone. 

_Chapter 7 - Bucky_

Bucky lay sprawled out on the roof of the Tower, cloud gazing. After the events of DC, Steve hadn’t wanted to stay there, and Tony had invited him to move into the Tower. Bucky knew Steve hadn’t been doing much living. He’d merely used the space as a home base while he searched for Bucky. Sam had helped, though he’d gone back to DC when Bucky had come back to Steve. Bucky was pretty sure Sam would give in to Stark’s not so subtle prodding that he become a full time Avenger and move in as well. Bucky kind of hoped it would be soon. He and Sam had something of an antagonistic relationship that Bucky enjoyed. It kept him on his toes. And it would be nice to have someone to talk to. 

Bucky scowled, irritated with himself. He’d spent seventy-odd years without teammates, family, or friends. It shouldn’t be this hard to be alone. He’d been living in the Tower for a year now, and he’d gotten used to having all the above. It hurt that they’d all pulled away even though he knew it was his fault. He’d left Clint, broken his heart, and destroyed his other relationships in the process. Still, he’d thought the team had come around to liking him for himself and not just an extension of Steve, or even Clint. Turned out he was wrong about that. 

Heavy boots hit the roof, reverberated up his spine. Bucky didn’t move. He’d known Stark was out testing some new feature on the suit. He expected the man to head inside and right back to his workshop, where he’d spent the last week or so. Instead, the heavy tread came his way. 

“You alive over there, Bucko?” 

Bucky lifted his metal arm, raised his middle finger. Stark snorted a laugh that was distorted by the Iron Man faceplate. He turned his head to look, saw Stark stepping out of the suit. He was surprised when Stark lowered himself down to sit next to him. 

“Wouldn’t this be more fun in a park? Or, I know there’s a rooftop garden that’s open off the penthouse because I built the thing.” 

Bucky was surprised Stark had decided to stop and talk to him. He shifted up to sit cross-legged, feeling uncomfortable about lying on his back around someone he didn’t know all that well. 

“Used to come up with Clint. It’s his favorite spot.” 

Something that looked like guilt flickered in Stark’s eyes before it was gone, a smile Bucky recognized as his public one curling his lips. 

“Birdbrain does enjoy being up high. Heights don’t bother you?” 

“I was a sniper. Spent all my time up high.” 

As the Soldier, Bucky wasn’t allowed to have fears. Not that Bucky felt inclined to share that. Stark was watching him, head cocked. 

“I guess I figured with the whole train thing.” Stark winced. “Sorry, that’s insensitive.” 

“Oh. That. I don’t remember that,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Hard to be afraid of something you’ve only heard stories about, I guess.” 

Stark looked surprised. “I thought things were coming back to you?” 

Bucky picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans. It was weird to talk about this with someone who wasn’t Steve or Clint, weirder still that it was Stark. He was just so goddamn tired of being alone. 

“I got a lot back from before the war. Some stuff from being a kid.” Not much, though who really remembered all their childhood? Bucky remembered the important stuff. “I don’t remember the train. A little from when HYDRA first found me.” Stark made a little noise, and Bucky snorted. “Yeah, nightmare fodder for sure. I remember bits and pieces of the Asset. The, umm, the wipes and cryo and the endless repetition of it. Nothing concrete. No missions or anything.” 

Bucky glanced over at Stark, who was listening keenly with no judgement on his face. 

“This new S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever, they weren’t happy about that. Nothing I can do about it. My, uh, therapists say it’s probably a coping mechanism.” 

When he felt safe, when he could handle it, he’d probably remember everything. Bucky was keeping that to himself. 

“You know you don’t have to be embarrassed about having a therapist, right?” 

Intellectually, yes. Yes, he did. However. “It’s hard, I guess. It wasn’t something people did.” 

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think Steve ever did much beyond the sessions S.H.I.E.L.D. forced him into. He was only doing it to get cleared for field work. Then the alien invasion happened so I’m pretty sure they just said fuck it and let him do what he wanted.” 

Bucky had to laugh at that. “Sounds about right. Other than his ma, I never met anybody who could get Steve to do something he didn’t want to do.” 

“Sounds like the Rogers I know, yeah.” 

There was affection in the tone, and Bucky had to smile. He knew that Stark and Steve hadn’t gotten along at first. Hell, they still butted heads most of the time but there was respect there, and friendship. Bucky didn’t expect the former out of anyone on the team, though he’d been hoping for the latter. He frowned, irritated that he was still feeling sorry for himself. Before he could pick up the conversation, Tony stood. 

“I’m going to the workshop. JARVIS should be done correlating the data from the scans I just took.” 

Bucky had to fight to keep his expression neutral; god, this neediness was so fucking _annoying_. He should be fine being alone. Tony was studying him, seeming to ponder something. 

“You into science at all?” 

“I was,” Bucky said simply. Once upon a time, in another life, science had fascinated him. He’d have given anything to study it in college. Life had had other plans for him. 

“Come with me then. I like bouncing ideas off people. JARVIS can be a killjoy.” 

“I simply prefer that you not blow yourself up, sir.” 

JARVIS’ voice coming from the idle Iron Man suit made Bucky smile. He stood up, brushed the dirt off his ass. 

“Yeah, okay, I’d love to see your workshop.” 

Tony frowned over at him as they walked toward the door, the suit keeping pace behind them. That was weird yet fascinating too. Bucky turned his attention from the empty suit to Tony. 

“I didn’t know that was a thing. Visiting you there.” 

“Pepper and Rhodey. Anybody else that comes down, JARVIS lets them in. If it’s on lockdown, that means I’m doing super-secret R&D stuff and come back later.” 

“Or he’s lying around in his underwear, contemplating the universe,” JARVIS said dryly. 

Tony looked aghast. “I can’t believe you just sold me out like that, J.” 

Bucky was laughing so hard he had to stop walking, unable to catch his breath. “Thank you, JARVIS. I really needed that.” 

“It’s always a pleasure to be of service, Sergeant Barnes.” 

It had taken Bucky time to be okay with being addressed by his former title, believing he didn’t deserve it. Clint had helped him with that, had been vehement that Bucky had earned that respect and more considering how long he’d been a prisoner of war. Bucky had never thought of that, sometimes still didn’t. He had stopped balking at it the way he had in the beginning. 

Thoughts of Clint had his shoulders falling. If Tony noticed, he didn’t comment, simply led the way to the bank of elevators that would take them to the workshop. 

“You know, if you like hanging in the shop, I’ve got tons of shit you can help with. Steve draws when he comes down, and Clint likes to help with tweaks to his bows and figuring out new arrows. They’ll hold shit and solder or whatever if I need them to, you just can’t bounce ideas off either of them.” Tony was talking up a storm as he hit the button for the 79th floor. “Once I get this drag shit figured out on the left thruster, we could look at your arm. If that’s cool. Man, I’d love to get in there.” Tony frowned. “Not in a dirty way. You’re cute and all, not really my type.” 

Bemused, Bucky let him ramble, the last of his tension seeping out as he followed Tony into his workshop and prepared to get to work.

⍟➳✪

Unsurprisingly, Tony’s workshop was _fascinating_. Bucky certainly didn’t consider himself in league with Tony when it came to smarts. He was intuitive, though, and could keep up in conversation well enough not to annoy the genius while he worked. Bucky found himself wandering into the shop at least once a day. He’d fiddle with whatever Tony had for him (he’d graduated to bot maintenance and tinkering) or he’d sprawl on the couch in the corner and read on his tablet while Tony worked. There’d been an awkward moment when Bucky had mentioned going to the Stark Expo back in the day. Tony had shaken it off and told JARVIS to load Bucky’s tablet with videos of the Expo from the archives. Bucky had been in heaven.

He got more comfortable asking both Tony and JARVIS to help him with things. He’d known that the teasing the team gave Steve was in jest, and that Steve never took it personally. Bucky hadn’t been in a place, mentally, to be okay with that for himself. Once he started spending time with Tony, it felt okay to ask JARVIS for help with things he didn’t understand. The AI never made him feel like an idiot, just gave him whatever information he had asked for. He was so comfortable that he forgot to watch himself, and asked JARVIS to explain something while he was in the workshop. Tony had responded without even looking up from the circuit board he was working on. He hadn’t acted like Bucky not knowing was a huge deal, and Bucky had been able to relax. 

The one thing they never talked about was Clint or Steve. Every once in a while, Tony would start to say something then never finish the question and Bucky always let it drop. He wasn’t ready to talk about Clint to anyone except possibly Steve. And since Steve wasn’t speaking to him… well, Bucky had no one except himself to blame for that. 

_Chapter 8 - Tony_

Tony was in the workshop, tinkering on the beginnings of a project he could pass on to Bucky when JARVIS pinged in. 

"Sir, I have a visual of Agent Barton." 

Tony set down the soldering iron. It had been weeks since his encounter with Clint in Brooklyn, and he’d subconsciously been waiting for this call. He'd promised Clint he'd come if needed and he'd meant it. 

"Where is he, J?" 

"Los Angeles, sir." 

Tony's blood went cold. "Pep is in LA." 

After their latest break-up, Pepper had decided to spend some time at SI's headquarters. It was a way to give them some space while they transitioned back to friends. 

"Ms. Potts is fine. I verified that immediately." 

"Thank you, JARVIS.” 

"Of course. Agent Barton appears to be fine as well." 

"He needs something, or he wouldn't have let you spot him." 

"He did far more than that." 

JARVIS sounded amused and Tony arched a brow. 

"What’s he up to?" 

"He's currently making himself a martini in your library." 

Tony blinked; he must have heard that wrong. "He's in the penthouse? If Pep let him in, why didn't she let us know?" 

"Because he has not seen Ms. Potts. She is currently in a board meeting. It appears that Agent Barton infiltrated SI and then broke into the penthouse." 

"Well son of a bitch." 

Considering Pepper sometimes stayed in the penthouse, and Tony always used it, it shouldn't have been possible. Then again, Barton was far better at his job than most gave him credit for. 

"Sir, if you'd direct your attention to your monitor." 

Tony turned, a bark of laughter escaping at the visual. JARVIS had brought up the security feed from the penthouse. Clint was smiling into the camera, smug, a martini in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. The paper had a note on it, written in purple Sharpie. 

_Come have a drink with me. I'll have a map with security updates for you by the time you get here._

"What a little shit," Tony said, amused. 

"He reminds me of you, sir." 

Tony snorted, couldn't really argue. He wiped his hands off on his pants, stretched the kinks out of his back. 

"Shut everything down, JARVIS. I'm going to shower and pack a bag. We're going to LA." 

⍟➳✪

Tony had given Pepper the heads up that he was coming, and then made it a point to be seen at SI when he finally arrived in LA. Clint had made it clear that his current assignment required stealth and Tony didn’t want the news feeds seeing Iron Man out and about in California. Tony Stark visiting Stark Industries drew a lot less media attention than an Avenger did. 

Eventually Tony was able to break away and head to the penthouse. He found Clint sprawled on a couch in the living room, empty glass on the table beside him and a tablet in his hands. He looked up as Tony entered the room, his smile tired. Tony had noticed the dark shadows under his eyes on the security feed; they were even more pronounced in person. He dropped his bags by the door and made his way to the bar, taking a detour to grab Clint’s glass. He fixed them both drinks, back turned to Clint. 

“Bad mission?” he asked, striving for casual. 

“The worst,” Clint sighed. 

Tony carried the drinks over to the couch, eyeing Clint appraisingly. He didn’t look injured, just tired in that way that Tony knew was more about needing sleep. Something was weighing on Clint. Tony had learned enough about the man to know that you couldn’t just ask him what was wrong. You had to let him come to you in his own time. That was fine, Tony could bide his time. He dropped onto the cushion next to Clint, carefully, making sure all of the liquor stayed in the glass. He handed Clint his drink, amused. 

“You don’t really strike me as the martini type, Legolas.” 

“’m not,” Clint said, taking a big sip of his drink. “It seemed like a rich people drink, and I’m hanging out in a billionaire’s penthouse.” 

“When in Rome?” Tony laughed. 

“Guess so.” 

Clint slumped against Tony as they worked on finishing off their drinks. Tony did what he did best and filled the silence talking about all the various projects he had going on in the workshop. He couldn’t tell him about Avengers business because there was really nothing going on. They weren’t training together, weren’t fighting together. Hell, they were barely living together considering how often Natasha was gone. Bruce was out of the States more than he was in it, still leery of the government trying to get their hands on him. Steve and Barnes were probably off limits. Of course, the minute he thought it, the words were falling out of his mouth. 

“Still don’t see much of Steve. Think I’ve got a new lab assistant in Barnes.” He felt Clint tense against him, decided to keep going since the cat was already out of the bag. “Didn’t know he was a science nerd. Hell, maybe he didn’t remember. He’s made friends with all the bots and is damn handy with a screwdriver.” 

“You’ve been hanging out with Bucky?” Clint’s voice was quiet. 

“Yeah. Happened by accident, really. He’s good company.” 

He wanted to say more, wanted to tell Clint about the aching loneliness he could see on Barnes’ face when he didn’t think Tony was paying attention. In the last couple of months, he’d somehow become friends with Barnes. Still, he was friends with Clint too, and he knew it would cause him pain to know how much Barnes was currently hurting, despite the mess their relationship had become. 

Before he could make up his mind on whether or not he should say anything, Clint pushed up to sit beside Tony, setting his empty glass on the coffee table in front of them. There was something in his eyes that Tony couldn’t name, something that formed ice in the pit of his stomach, though Tony couldn’t have said why. 

“This thing S.H.I.E.L.D. has me looking into? It’s bad, Tony.” 

“Then why can’t we help you?” 

“Because we don’t know exactly who it is yet. We think he’s HYDRA. Or forming some new faction of it. We can’t be sure.” 

There was frustration in Clint’s voice, and it just heightened Tony’s irritation. This was bullshit, making Clint handle this on his own. Clint shot him a smile like he knew what Tony was thinking. 

“If we spook him, if he bolts…” Clint scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how we’d fucking find him. It was a fluke Coulson and his gang found him the first time.” 

“Offer stands.” 

“It’s HYDRA-adjacent, at least, and it has to do with Bucky.” 

Tony sat up straight at that. “They want their Soldier back.” 

“Yep. And we finally figured out why they weren’t going after Bucky even though they knew exactly where he was. They need something first. That’s my next piece of the puzzle.” 

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Clint was being too careful in the way he was telling Tony information, and there was too much being hidden behind his eyes. Clint watched him for a minute before he sighed. 

“I’ve been digging up a lot of shit since we realized that Bucky is the primary target. None of the stuff on the Soldier leaked when Natasha dumped the HYDRA files. Nothing about him is electronic. It’s all old paper files and microfiche or whatever that shit is.” 

“Makes sense,” Tony mused. “They took an American war hero, Captain America’s best friend, and brainwashed him into a killing machine. Why would they want that getting out?” 

Tony didn’t know what they’d had to do to Barnes to make the Winter Soldier, and Barnes himself didn’t remember everything. That the loss of memory was so deep, so extensive, gave at least some idea of what HYDRA had done to Barnes over the years. Tony wasn’t sure any of them needed, or wanted, to know the full extent of what had been done. 

“Nat’s had intel on the Winter Soldier. He’s a ghost story in our world. Well, he was, I guess. Nat knew there was a real operative behind the stories. She ran into him on a protection detail once.” 

Tony just barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. “What the hell happened?” 

“He took out the guy Nat was protecting. One bullet, straight through her.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

Tony remembered the footage from cell phone cameras during the fight in DC, before the Winter Soldier was unmasked. “Didn’t he shoot her in DC?” 

“Yep.” 

“She lives with him in the Tower. Hell, you’re dating him.” He saw Clint wince and reached out to pat his shoulder. “Sorry. How is she just fine with all of that?” 

“I think she’s a little pissed he hasn’t recognized her.” Clint smiled ruefully. “Bucky doesn’t remember any of that, and Natasha isn’t going to force him too. It’d be bad, Tony, to force his memories to come back more than they have.” 

That made sense. Barnes had mentioned his therapists calling it a coping mechanism. Tony knew you didn’t just rip that kind of thing away without consequences. It had pissed off S.H.I.E.L.D., not having access to things the Winter Soldier had done. Even Hill wasn’t enough of an asshole to push on the issues. Not with Steve, and then Clint, firmly in Bucky’s corner. 

“Besides,” Clint continued. “Natasha has her own history with brain fucking. The Red Room isn’t so different from HYDRA.” 

That was news to Tony. To be fair, he knew very little about Natasha’s life pre-S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avengers other than the fact that Barton had been sent to kill her. That told him quite a bit. Her silence on her past told him far more, and he wasn’t stupid enough to pry. He liked breathing. And having all of his limbs intact and functioning. Tony glanced over at Clint to find him nervously drumming his fingers on his thigh. 

“There’s a specific reason you’re telling me all of this, isn’t there?” 

“The Soldier is credited with over two dozen assassinations. Some think the number is inflated, to make people fear the Soldier, and HYDRA, even more. I think that’s bullshit. Until DC, he was a ghost story for a reason. Nobody could even be sure he existed. HYDRA used him for the important stuff, for covert assassinations that changed a political landscape or started havoc somewhere so they could operate quietly somewhere else during the confusion. I think that number is probably pretty much on the nose.” 

“Are you stalling, Hawkguy?” 

“Maybe. I don’t really know how to get this out.” 

“Did they send him after someone you know?” 

Except that didn’t make sense. Clint was a farm boy, born and bred in corn country. Everything Tony knew about him (which wasn’t much, granted) said that Clint’s life was pretty normal until his parents died. Tony didn’t know much about Clint before he’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D. but you didn’t become a master assassin without having some damn good training. And Clint had alluded to the fact that he’d been, or worked with, mercenaries in the past. Maybe he’d run into the Soldier then? 

Tony’s brain slowed enough to realize that Clint was looking at him, sadness in his eyes. His voice was gentler than Tony had ever heard it. 

“No, Tony, they sent him after someone you know.” 

That didn’t make any goddamn sen… Tony froze, hand snapping out to grab Clint by the wrist. Clint never even flinched, just waited for Tony to process. It didn’t take long. 

“Tell me he didn’t.” 

“I’m sorry, Tony.” 

Tony swallowed hard. “They sent Barnes to kill my dad.” 

Clint shook his head. “They sent the Winter Soldier to kill your dad.” 

“Fuck that! It’s the same thing. He…” 

“Tony.” 

“How do you know? Is there a file?” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I don’t fucking care! That’s my dad. My….” Tony shot off the couch, vibrating with anger and grief. “He wasn’t alone in the car.” 

“I know that. I’m so sorry, Tony.” 

Tony pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes, doing nothing to alleviate the stinging. Something occurred to him, and he dropped his hands, staring hard at Clint. 

“Does Cap know?” 

“What?” 

Clint looked genuinely confused by that; Tony had to be sure. 

“Does Cap know? Has he been lying to me this whole damn time?” 

Comprehension hit; he could see it on Clint’s face. “You know about Zola, right?” Tony nodded curtly. “When he told Nat and Steve how HYDRA had been manipulating things, and removing any obstacles, he uh, included a newspaper clipping of your dad’s death. They couldn’t be sure that he was telling the truth, though.” 

“Goddamn it, Clint.” 

Clint stood and came to stand in front of Tony. “There was no mention of who had engineered the “accident” and no clue at all that they’d used the Soldier to do it. Neither of them wanted to tell you until they had proof. I know Nat’s been looking into it.” 

Jesus Christ. Clint had known too? 

“How long?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“How long have you known?” 

“Since I found the file. I called Nat immediately, and that’s when she told me everything Zola had told her and Steve.” 

Tony wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse, the fact that they’d been lying to Clint too. 

“You don’t seem nearly as angry about that as you should be.” 

Clint shrugged. “Natasha and I have always kept secrets. It’s the nature of what we do. She always tells me the truth when I need it, and I do the same for her.” 

Well wasn’t that fucking peachy? Tony knew it probably wasn’t rational. He was pissed about it anyway. 

“They should have told me the second they knew.” 

“Maybe,” Clint allowed. “But you were busy dealing the aftermath of the Mandarin and shit. Things were rough with Pepper. They didn’t want to add to that with maybes. Zola wasn’t exactly an unimpeachable source.” 

Someday Tony might appreciate that. Someday wasn’t today. 

“You have proof now. I want it.” 

“Jesus Christ you’re stubborn.” 

“No shit.” 

“It’s not going to help. Tony, it won’t change anything.” 

“How would you know?” 

Clint tilted his head, eyed Tony thoughtfully. “Huh. I assumed you’d read my S.H.I.E.L.D. file.” 

“I have. They act like your sprouted fully grown with a bow in your hand the year they recruited you.” 

Clint snorted a laugh at that. “No shit? I’ve never read my file. Didn’t know it was like that.” 

“You’re stalling again.” 

Clint shoved his hands into his pockets, face going carefully blank the way it sometimes did. “My folks died when I was ten. My dad was an alcoholic, drove drunk all the time. Finally caught up to him, and he wrapped them around a tree coming home from the bar one night.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah.” Clint’s smile was bitter. “He liked to knock us around when he drank, which was all the time. My mom intervened with us kids when she could. She just never left him. Still not sure I’ve forgiven her for that.” 

He and Clint were far more alike than he’d ever known. 

“I always thought the same, you know? That dad must have been drunk. The official report says nothing like that, of course. Billionaires don’t get blamed for shit they do. I think the official story is he lost control on a wet patch and hit a tree.” Tony’s eyes stung. “I guess we know different now.” 

“We do.” Clint reached out to grasp Tony’s wrist. “I can give you the file, but what’s it going to change Tony?” 

“I don’t know. Still have to see it for myself.” 

Clint sighed heavily. “Yeah, JARVIS figured you’d say that.” 

“JARVIS knows about this?” Tony asked, startled. 

“I got hold of him while you were on the way. Nobody except Rhodes and Pepper know you like JARVIS does. I guess I needed his advice.” 

“What’d you tell him J?” Tony wasn’t suspicious about being conspired against. Much. 

“That you would require visual confirmation, sir.” JARVIS sounded sad, which did nothing for Tony’s mood. “As a man of science, you require proof. Even if that proof is painful.” 

“I was hoping he was wrong. I still think this is a bad idea. Seeing the video…” 

“Wait, there’s video?” 

“Yeah. Security camera in the area. HYDRA kept the footage on a disk stuffed in the paper files. I don’t know why.” 

“I want it all, Barton. Everything you found.” 

Clint dug a flash drive out of his pocket and handed it over. “I probably should have deleted the fucking thing.” 

“Why didn’t you, since you don’t want me seeing it?” 

“Because I don’t lie to my family, not without a damn good reason. And if there’s a copy somewhere, and you found out? You’d never trust me again.” 

No, he wouldn’t. He still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to forgive anyone for this. 

“I need you to go.” 

“What? Tony, you shouldn’t watch that alone.” 

“I won’t be. JARVIS is here.” 

“Tony…” 

“I can’t, okay?” Tony’s tone bordered on pleading and he hated it. “I can’t watch this with you here.” 

He couldn’t be that open, that exposed, with anybody. Clint’s shoulders slumped. 

“Alright. I’ll stick around town for a few days in case you need me, though, okay?” 

Tony squeezed his eyes closed, forcing back tears. Jesus, he didn’t deserve this guy. 

“SI has a suite at the Waldorf for visiting dignitaries. JARVIS will set you up. Have a mini vacation.” 

“As long as I don’t have to do the spa shit.” 

“Heathen.” 

Clint’s smile was tired when he stepped closer to hug Tony. He kept it brief, and Tony was grateful. 

“I mean it, Tony. Call and I’ll come running.” He bumped Tony’s shoulder with his own. “I don’t make that offer to just anyone.” 

“Thanks, birdbrain.” 

He waited until Clint was gone before he opened up his laptop and inserted the flash drive Clint had given him. 

“Download everything, JARVIS.” 

“Of course, sir. I’ll have it ready momentarily.” 

Tony went to the bar and fixed himself a drink. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

⍟➳✪

Tony didn’t know how long he’d been watching the video for. At some point, JARVIS had quit suggesting that he turn it off. Wouldn’t have mattered if he had. He watched the video of his parents’ murder over and over, committing the details to memory - his dad’s disorientation, his confusion when he’d recognized Barnes. The sight of the metal hand as it smashed into his dad’s face. His mother’s fear was even worse, as was the sight of that bare right hand as fingers wrapped around her throat. He set the video to play again, cursing when it stopped at the curve of that all too familiar road.

“Don’t, JARVIS. Play it again.” 

“I told him not to.” 

The unexpected voice had Tony whipping around in shock. “Pepper?” 

She stood just inside the foyer; shoes kicked off, otherwise as put together as she always was in the boardroom. It was the same way he’d seen her every night she’d come up to the Tower’s penthouse apartment, ready to shut down the workday and spend time with him. His already bruised heart ached that much more, and he had to close his against the sting of tears. 

“What are you doing here?” he was finally able to ask. 

“Clint stopped in to see me before he went to check in at the hotel.” She came further into the room, gaze searching his face before her own softened. “He’s worried about you.” 

“He’s a good friend.” 

“He is.” 

“You didn’t have to come.” Tony tried to say it as nonchalantly as he could, probably missed by a mile. 

“I think I did.” Pepper smiled softly. “I don’t think all this distance is working out well for us. Besides, I’d never leave you alone after something like this.” 

Tony’s shoulders slumped. “It’s fucking awful, Pep.” 

She reached out to take his hand. “I know it is.” 

“No, it’s… it’s even worse than you think. Barnes is all lost puppy without his boyfriends and somehow, we’ve been hanging out. And he’s so fucking smart, you have no idea. I don’t know what he did before the war. I doubt he got to use those brains of his for much. Probably too busy being a pretty face and keeping Rogers from getting his ass beat. That’s what the stories say, anyway. Still, he’s smarter than people seem to give him credit for, and funny. Jesus Christ he’s so damn sarcastic. It’s…” 

“You like him,” Pepper said gently. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Did. Fuck.” 

“It’s okay to like him.” 

“I don’t know how, Pepper.” He looked at her, eyes welling with tears. “He killed my mom.” 

“Oh, honey, I know.” 

She led him to the couch and sat down with him, cradled him to her. He clung, body shaking as he finally gave in to tears. She didn’t say anything, just held him and let him cry. 

_Chapter 9 - Bucky_

Bucky paced his suite for a long time, debating. Two weeks ago, Tony had made an unscheduled trip to California. When he’d come back, he’d gone straight into the workshop and put it on lockdown. As far as Bucky knew, the only person allowed in was Ms. Potts, who’d arrived back at the Tower the day after Tony had. Bucky had tried checking on Tony and was never granted access. It worried him, though every time he asked, JARVIS told him Tony was fine, just in the middle of something and didn’t want to be disturbed. It sounded like the truth. Still, Bucky worried. Enough that he had finally resolved to go talk to Steve about it. 

He was not looking forward to that. He and Steve hadn’t spoken since the day Bucky had come back after Clint had left the Tower. Maybe it’d be easier to talk to Steve considering this was about Tony and not them. Bucky doubted it. Steve was the most stubborn guy Bucky had ever known. Sighing, Bucky headed for the communal kitchen. Steve usually stopped in there for breakfast after his run. 

The kitchen was empty except for Natasha, which brought its own set of problems. He’d tried to kill her twice, didn’t remember either time. That little awkwardness was bad enough before you added in that he’d hurt her best friend. The person she was closest to. Some days, Bucky wasn’t sure how he was still alive. He fought the urge to hunch his shoulders, went to the counter to pour a cup of coffee. He didn’t like the stuff the way Clint did, he just needed something to do with his hands. He wasn’t expecting Natasha’s voice and it startled him enough that he had to tighten his grip on the coffee pot. 

“Thought you’d left for DC already.” 

He turned to her, unable to keep the confusion from his voice. “Why would I be going to DC?” 

“My mistake. Steve mentioned to JARVIS that he was going to go spend some time with Sam. I assumed you’d be going with him.” 

Her tone dripped sincerity that didn’t fool Bucky at all. There were only so many ways she could twist the knife these days and this one was pretty damn effective. He felt the sharp pain of the knife thrust, but he wouldn’t bleed out, not really. 

Very fucking effective, when you got right down to it. 

He turned back to the sink, rinsed out his cup and put it in the dishwasher with mechanical motions. He didn’t look at her, didn’t want her to see just how badly that hit hurt him. Of course Steve hadn’t invited him along, or even told him he was going. And there was no way Natasha wouldn’t have known that, even if she and Steve still weren’t speaking. Jesus, this team was such a fucking mess. 

He had no one except himself to blame for that. 

Without a word, he left the kitchen, heading for the elevator. He needed out, hit the button for the lobby without thinking about it. He didn’t want to go back to his lonely floor, was tired of trying to see Tony only to have a locked door and darkened windows greet him. 

Outside, he hunched his shoulders against the unexpected chill. He wasn’t dressed for the outdoors, refused to think about going back inside for a jacket. He’d been outside in worse weather with less protection. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he began to walk. There was no clear destination in mind other than away. He kept his head down, uncharacteristically numb to his surroundings. His brain was full of noise, an itch under his skin that he didn’t know how to get rid of. It had been months, and nothing was getting better. He didn’t think Steve was ever going to forgive him. Bucky didn’t expect him to; he’d created this hell, and he was going to have to live with it. It wasn’t fair, though, to keep staying at the Tower. It kept Clint away from his team, his family. If Bucky left, Clint could finally come home. 

Not that he had any idea where he’d go, except out of the country. Even without the arm, his face was recognizable. He lived in the Tower, and the media knew who he was. It’d be easier to go underground in Europe. He still had the skills HYDRA had forced on him. He spoke half a dozen languages, knew how to blend in when he needed to. He could do this. 

He wasn’t aware of the presence on his left until it was well into his personal space. His spine went rigid, alarm bells going off in his head. Jesus, he’d been stupid. So far up his own ass he hadn’t registered danger until it slid up next to him and slapped something onto his left arm. It immediately went dead, the weight pulling him off balance as a needle slid into his neck. 

“Welcome back, Soldat.” The voice spoke directly into his ear as his vision started to go black. “We have much to discuss, you and I. Come along.” 

Bucky tried to fight, couldn’t get his limbs to cooperate. All he could do was stumble along as the man guided him toward a van waiting at the intersection. The door slid open and hands reached for him as the man at his side guided him inside. 

He was unconscious before the door closed behind him.

⍟➳✪

Bucky came awake by degrees. It wasn’t a good feeling, too reminiscent of coming out of cryo. He’d always been lethargic, barely there until...

The sound of distant gunfire had him jerking upright, shaking his head as if that would clear the fog that clung to him. He staggered to his feet, ended up having to brace himself against the wall when dizziness hit. Concussion, then. Not his first, and it would heal quickly, like most injuries he sustained. He took deep breaths, forcing down the nausea as he tried to take in his surroundings so he could remember what the hell he was supposed to be doing. 

“You’re awake. Good.” 

The tone of voice implied the opposite. Bucky’s head jerked up, and he bit back a groan at the spike of pain. “Agent Coulson?” 

The agent was seated on an overturned crate, looking as unruffled as any other time Bucky had seen him. Thankfully, that wasn’t very often since the two of them tended to rub one another the wrong way. The sight of him made Bucky more confused, and he frowned. 

“I... I don’t know how I got here. Or how you got here.” It rankled to admit that to Coulson of all people. 

Coulson looked like he might not reply at first, then he sighed heavily. “We had actionable intel that HYDRA was going to make a move on you. Unfortunately, we found out too late, and they were able to take you.” 

Bucky went cold. “How long? What did I do?” 

Coulson’s expression softened slightly. “Only a few hours. You spent most of that drugged. They were bringing you out of it when we infiltrated. I found you in this lab, mostly alone.” He smiled. “We weren’t quiet coming in so I’m assuming most of your guards left to meet my team. Left you alone.” 

“Stupid.” 

“Maybe. You were still drugged. You weren’t able to stand up straight, let alone fight your way free.” 

Bucky’s glare had no effect on the agent, who merely shrugged and continued his story. 

“We were leaving the lab when an operative came around the corner and threw a grenade at you. You deflected it, but the concussion blast threw you into the wall.” 

Bucky winced; yeah, he supposed that would do it. 

“Once you were down, reinforcements came and I felt it prudent to allow them to lock us in here.” Bucky gave him a look and Coulson shrugged. “They threatened to shoot you in the head if I didn’t comply, and I’m assuming Captain Rogers would have objections to that.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes even though it made his head ache. “I’m guessing he would, yeah.” 

He made his way to the door to look things over. The lab wasn’t like any he remembered from flashes of his time with HYDRA which made him nervous. It was deep underground, no windows leading to the hallway or other rooms, and the one door had no door knobs or locks, just a biometric lock Bucky knew couldn’t be picked. He could smash it with his left hand easy enough, but it wouldn’t trigger the mechanism to open. HYDRA was occasionally smart, damn them. He turned back to Coulson. 

“Any reason why we’re not trying to find our way out of here?” 

“There's no need. My team is clearing out the facility. They’ll get to us soon enough. That reminds me...” 

Coulson reached into his pocket and took out a small object that he threw to Bucky. Bucky caught it reflexively, assuming it wouldn’t explode considering Coulson was in the room with him. It was a communication earpiece, and Bucky slipped it into his ear, tapped it to turn it on. Steve’s voice was immediately recognizable. 

“...cky? Are you there?” 

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Oh, thank god.” 

Steve’s relief was palpable, and Bucky had to close his eyes. He and Steve were miles apart these days, and it fucking hurt. Didn’t matter that is was Bucky’s own fault. 

“Bucky? You doing okay?” 

Bucky shook off the melancholy. “Got a concussion, it’s healing. That and whatever drugs they fed me are making me dizzy, but I’m alright. Just get your ass down here so we can go home.” 

There was a long silence before Steve spoke again. 

“I’m not in the facility.” 

“What? Coulson said the team was upstairs.” 

“Yeah, his team is. They were close when HYDRA took you. He asked us to stand down and let them get you out. There is something going on behind the scenes, and they needed this to stay quiet.” 

Nothing the Avengers got involved in stayed quiet; Coulson’s request wasn’t an unreasonable one. Still... 

“You didn’t come for me?” 

The minute the words left his mouth, Bucky wanted to call them back. They said too much, left him flayed open in front of a man he didn’t like. Not to mention whoever else might be on the comms. He turned his back to Coulson, cleared his throat. 

“Buck.” 

“Never mind. It’s fine. Coulson will get me home, I guess.” 

He reached up to tap the comm off, cutting Steve off mid-sentence. He kept his gaze on the floor, concentrating on his breathing the way his therapist had taught him. Everything was fine. He was blowing shit out of proportion. There was no reason to be upset that Steve hadn’t come. 

“You don’t think much of me, do you Sergeant Barnes?” 

Bucky straightened his spine, turned to face Coulson head on. 

“I don’t know you, Agent Coulson.” 

Coulson stood up from the crate, brushing dust from his slacks. “That doesn’t seem to have stopped you from forming an opinion.” 

Bucky shrugged. “I guess. You lied to Clint, for years. Let him think you were dead when you had to know that he’d be blaming himself for getting you killed.” 

“You of all people do not get to lecture me on hurting Clint.” 

Bucky bristled, though there was nothing he could say in his defense. Coulson watched him for a moment, and when it became clear Bucky wasn’t going to say anything, the agent let out a sigh. 

“You don’t have to like me, Sergeant Barnes. Sadly, I’m not that big a fan of you either. Unfortunately, you’re important to people I do care about.” 

“Don’t pretend this is about anything other than what it is,” Bucky sneered. “You can’t afford to let HYDRA get their hands on me.” 

“That would be incredibly bad, yes. You’re dangerous, Barnes. I’d rather not have you working against my team.” There was a loud explosion somewhere close to the lab that made Coulson smile. “Speaking of. I believe that’s our rescue.” 

Bucky’s hand fell reflexively to search for a gun that he, of course, didn’t have. He must have been cleared of weapons while he was unconscious, which really pissed him off. He clenched his left hand into a fist, let the familiar sound of the plates in his arm realigning ground him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Coulson take a step back. 

“You might want to step away from the door.” 

He found himself doing exactly that without being sure why. Something about the confident tone in Coulson’s voice, maybe? He didn’t have time to analyze the thought. Another deafening explosion sent the door of the lab flying inward to crush a bank of computers, followed very shortly by the body of a HYDRA agent. Bucky tensed; Coulson never moved except to cross his arms over his chest, clearly watching the show. 

A swarm of agents burst through the ruined doors, shouting in the chaos. A lone figure followed them in, garbed all in black, including a hood that obscured his features. Bucky couldn’t have even said why he thought the figure was a man. Something about the way he moved, Bucky guessed. 

A HYDRA agent came in behind the man. Bucky didn’t have to shout a warning. The man pivoted to kick the agent back out of the door at the same time that he withdrew a sword from the sheath at his side. Who the hell did Coulson have on his team that was a swordsman? 

The expert way he cut through the remaining agents told Bucky all he needed to know about the man’s skills. He was light on his feet, almost seeming to dance around the room as he took out his targets. The flash of the sword was a near constant accompaniment and it didn’t take long for the number of HYDRA to thin out. Bucky watched the final agent raise a shaking hand to point a gun at the man. The man cocked his head, raised the sword to block the bullet and send it back at the agent. He fell with a gurgle, and Bucky felt the insane urge to give the man an ovation. That had been fucking amazing. 

Coulson didn’t seem as impressed. “Very dramatic.” 

The man cracked his neck, ran his sword along a bent arm to clear the blood before he slid it back into its sheath. 

“You know me, Coulson. Gotta make an entrance.” 

Holy shit. “Clint?” Bucky was pretty sure the shock was evident in his voice. Especially when the man – Clint – sighed and reached up to throw back his hood. 

“Hey, Barnes.” 

Bucky flinched, shoulders slumping. Clint hadn’t resorted to calling him by his last name since sometime around the third week of Bucky’s stay in the Tower. Clint’s gaze flicked away from him then back again, his expression unreadable. 

“Got what I came here for. We should blow this place before it actually, you know, blows.” 

“How long before that happens?” 

“However long you need, sir.” 

Coulson sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to ‘sir’ me anymore?” 

“Probably a couple hundred more,” Clint said with a shrug. “It’s a hard habit to break. Sir.” 

Coulson mumbled something under his breath that sounded like ‘ass’ to Bucky. He ignored it, too busy drinking in the sight of Clint. The uniform he wore was nothing like his Hawkeye gear, and there was no bow in sight. He’d done something truly atrocious to his hair, but those eyes were the same. The curve of his mouth. Fuck, Bucky wanted to pull him close and kiss him. He shoved the thought away, took a step toward Clint. 

“Clint...” 

Clint gave one sharp shake of his head. “We have to go.” 

Movement behind Clint had Bucky’s attention refocusing in time to see an agent stumble through the door, gun trained on Clint’s back. Bucky didn’t even have time to shout a warning. Clint dropped into a crouch, hand shooting to his ankle and drawing out a knife. Quicker than Bucky could process, he had sent it flying across the room, finding its target in the agent’s throat. 

Clint’s gaze had never left Bucky’s. 

He was still staring wordlessly when Clint smirked and straightened up, turning to head out the door. He only paused long enough to retrieve his knife before he stepped over the body and out of the room. Bucky might have stood there longer if not for Coulson clearing his throat and dragging Bucky’s reluctant attention to him. There was something very knowing in his smile. 

“You might want to let Captain Rogers know we’re on our way.” 

Bucky waited until the room had cleared before he tapped his comm on again. “Steve?” 

“Damn it, Bucky, don’t do that to me. Don’t make me wonder if you’re okay.” 

Bucky winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean... I’m fine. I...” He glanced around the destruction of the lab, and all the HYDRA bodies that Clint had dropped. He knew it shouldn’t, couldn’t help the adrenaline rush that made his blood sing. Jesus that had been amazing. 

“Hey, Steve?” 

“Still here.” 

“I’m gay. Very, very gay.” 

There was a long pause and then Steve’s hesitant reply. “That’s not information I was unaware of, Buck.” 

“No, I mean, seriously. Clint was here and he... the whole damn HYDRA squad. He just took them all out. Easy as breathing.” 

Another pause, then Steve’s voice again, rich with amusement. “I forget that you never actually worked with him in the field.” 

It was odd to realize that he never had. He hadn’t been cleared for missions for quite some time after turning himself in to Steve, and when he finally had been, there hadn’t really been anything that required the whole team. The mission where Clint had been injured had been a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, and nothing Bucky would have been sent on. 

“He’s fucking amazing.” 

“He is,” Steve agreed quietly. 

“Steve...” 

“We’ll talk when you get home. Be safe, okay?” 

Bucky left the comm on as he left the lab, feeling shitty for shutting Steve out earlier. Clint and Coulson were waiting at the end of the hall, and Bucky followed them outside. It was surprisingly quiet, given the size of the building, and he turned a questioning gaze to Clint, who just shrugged. 

“I operated with extreme prejudice.” 

Coulson seemed more amused than anything. Bucky wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation so he kept quiet as he was led to a plane. The sight of it made him whistle. Coulson actually smiled at him. 

“You like it? We call it the Bus.” He headed inside, calling back over his shoulder, “You can meet my team before they drop us off at Stark’s Tower.” 

Bucky followed Coulson with Clint at his back. He paused when Clint did, watched him pull a small device from his pocket. He hesitated then held it out to Bucky. 

“You want to do the honors?” 

Bucky looked at the remote, realized what Clint was offering, and shook his head. “Think you should. You did all the heavy lifting.” 

Clint snorted. “Yeah, well, killing bad guys is what they pay me for.” 

He hit a button on the remote then boarded the plane without looking back. 

_Chapter 10 - Bucky_

Bucky had expected to be stuck in awkward silence with Clint on the Bus; it didn’t work out that way. He was introduced to Coulson’s team and checked out by Jemma “I’m not that kind of doctor, but I’m the best you’ll get right now” Simmons. Fine by him. He wasn’t a fan of anyone in a lab coat, though his murky memories didn’t give him more than vague feelings of panic and fear. Pain. It was enough to tell him to steer clear, in any case. She reaffirmed his self-diagnosis of concussion, and regretfully told him she didn’t feel comfortable giving him pain meds because they didn’t know what drugs he’d been given. She told him to rest if he could, and since Clint never left the cockpit despite the fact that he wasn’t actually piloting the Bus, Bucky decided to do as she’d suggested. He didn’t do much more than doze lightly. There were too many strangers for him to let himself be vulnerable enough for real sleep, despite his ongoing exhaustion. 

They arrived at the Tower quicker than Bucky had expected. He sent a questioning look towards Clint, who actually gave him a small smile. 

“We were only in Cleveland.” 

“Cleveland? Seriously?” 

Clint shrugged. “Guess it seemed like a good place for a Russian ex-HYDRA operative to hide.” 

“To be fair, it was,” Coulson said. “Intel says Karpov had been there a little over twenty years with no one the wiser.” 

The name sent a shudder through Bucky, something tugging at the fog that covered his memories. He pushed a little, something he never did, and was rewarded with nothing except a spike of pain in his head to rival the concussion. He felt Clint’s attention on him, forced himself to meet Clint’s eyes. There was a question in them. Bucky could only shake his head; he had nothing. For some reason, that made a flash of regret register in Clint’s eyes. It made Bucky uneasy. His lack of memories had never been a huge thing between them. Clint wasn’t one to push on something like that. 

Before he could ask any questions, Coulson was stepping off the Bus with Clint following. Bucky did the same, barely paying attention to his surroundings as they made their way to the common floor. Bruce was waiting for them, along with Steve and Natasha. Clint shot Steve a tight smile before crossing the room to whisper with Natasha. Hurt crossed Steve’s face for a moment before he could hide it. Bucky’s chest ached and he reached up to rub at his sternum. Steve’s attention shifted to him, concern in his eyes as he moved toward Bucky. He reached out to cup Bucky’s face, gaze searching. 

“Are you hurt, Buck?” 

Bucky’s eyes stung, and his throat went tight. It had been so long since he’d been close to Steve like this. So long since he and Steve had even spoken face to face. He swallowed hard, managed a smile. 

“Bump on the head. I’m fine. Clint… Clint got me out.” 

They both looked over to find Clint watching them, sadness on his face. As soon as he realized he was being watched, his expression smoothed out to a look of bland cheerfulness that Bucky recognized from press conferences and other public events the Avengers had to attend. Bucky hated that Clint felt the need to hide like that in his own home. To hide like that from them. 

The moment was broken when the elevator doors opened and Tony stepped out. Bucky hadn’t seen the man in weeks, and was startled by his appearance. He looked drawn and tired, too pale, and he’d lost weight. He felt Steve stiffen next to him, knew he was as surprised by Tony’s appearance as Bucky was. Tony looked up, dark eyes meeting Bucky’s and a flash of anger had Bucky’s breath catching in his chest. He took a step back without thinking, felt Steve’s arm wrap around his waist in support. Tony tore his gaze away and went to Clint. 

“Well, That’s an interesting look.” 

Bucky watched as Tony slid his fingertips along the shaved side of Clint’s head. There was something about the gesture that seemed intimate, though Bucky couldn’t have said why. Maybe because Tony tended to save his casual touching for Bruce and Pepper. Natasha on occasion. He hadn’t thought Tony and Clint were that close. Clint just smiled at him, the expression more real than anything Bucky had seen on Clint that day. 

“Can’t be Hawkeye when you’re trying to sneak around unnoticed,” Clint said. “Had to dig out an old persona for this one.” 

“It actually suits you.” Tony tugged at the longer hair on top of Clint’s head. “Jury is still out on Cap’s beard.” 

Bucky looked at Steve to find him rolling his eyes. “I like the beard. It’s staying.” 

Bucky kind of liked it too, if anyone were to ask his opinion. He was pretty sure Steve had never had facial hair before; it suited him. Clint was staring at Steve in a way that said he liked the new look too. He didn’t say anything, of course, just shot a look at Coulson before clearing his throat. Natasha stepped closer to him, put a hand on his arm. 

“You’ve obviously been up to something. I think it’s time you let us in.” 

Clint sighed heavily, then nodded. They all took seats around the room, Clint pausing long enough to unhook the sheath for his sword and set it aside before joining everyone. Bucky was surprised when Steve stayed close to him by choosing to share one of the loveseats with him. Clint chose a couch across from them, perching on the edge of a cushion. He seemed unsure how to start, and Coulson finally took pity on him. 

“My team was able to help Clint when he needed it because we were already in the area, monitoring a possible HYDRA resurgence. S.H.I.E.L.D. can’t be rebuilt if there’s even a possibility that any part of it is still compromised. Fury had reached out to me after the events in DC and asked me to consider being the new Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. We knew it was only a matter of time before the agency would be needed.” 

His gaze swung to Steve for a moment, and Bucky could feel the tension in Steve’s body. He understood it. Steve didn’t like the politics that went with covert government agencies, still blamed Fury’s penchant for secrets upon secrets upon lies for allowing Bucky’s captivity to happen in the first place. He reached out and tentatively took Steve’s hand, settling a little when Steve threaded their fingers together and squeezed lightly. Coulson nodded at them before continuing. 

“We’re a necessary evil in this world, no matter your feelings on the subject. Both Maria Hill and I want to do better than the way it was done before. Still, we can’t afford to be naïve. There are going to be times when we do things that you’ll find objectionable, Captain Rogers.” 

“I don’t have to like the methods,” Steve said quietly. 

“Fair enough. I want you to know that we didn’t deliberately hide any of this from you. We know you want HYDRA gone as much as we do.” Coulson smiled. “Probably more. The person we’re looking for is highly intelligent. He also has a grudge against the Avengers.” 

Bruce sighed. “Who doesn’t these days?” 

Clint snorted. “That’s fair. This guy, though? He doesn’t care about resurrecting HYDRA. He just wants to use their resources. And they have a fuck-ton of those just lying around and waiting for someone to pick them up again.” 

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Steve asked. 

“Guy’s name is Helmut Zemo.” Clint waited for a minute then nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t mean anything to me either.” 

Tony was fiddling on his tablet, as he always did. “You want to share Clint’s intel with the class, JARVIS?” 

“Of course, sir.” 

A holographic screen appeared, a dossier and photograph displayed on it. Of all the things Bucky enjoyed about the future, the technology had to be the best. 

“Okay, Zemo,” Clint continued. “He was a colonel in the Sokovian Armed Forces, and the commander of EKO Scorpion, an elite death squad. Sokovia’s nothing special, it’s just situated in a way that makes it appealing.” 

“Sokovia?” Steve said, clearly surprised. “That was one of the first places we had a mission as a team.” 

“Yeah,” Clint said. “It’s not historically friendly to American troops. They’ve done some shitty fucking things to any military members they’ve captured over the years.” 

“The Avengers don’t normally get sent on missions to places just because they don’t like America,” Bucky said, confused. 

Steve shook his head. “It wasn’t about that. There were rumors that there was a lab there doing human experimentation.” 

“We went in, got attacked pretty quickly by their armed forces, who did not appreciate our interference,” Tony told Bucky, with just the briefest glance in his direction. 

“They shouldn’t have bothered,” Natasha said. “We didn’t find anything. Would have left quietly if we hadn’t been attacked first.” 

“Yeah, well, Sokovia has a history of getting invaded. I suppose they don’t bother to ask questions anymore,” Bruce said quietly. “They just respond.” 

“Shoot first, ask questions never,” Tony muttered. 

“I’m assuming the Avengers kicked ass?” Bucky asked. 

“We… left a bit of a mess,” Tony confessed. 

“Not our fault,” Natasha snapped. 

Tony held up his hands. “I don’t think so either. And yet, we’ve apparently pissed this guy off or Clint wouldn’t be talking about this.” 

Clint’s expression was tight. “The lab we were looking for was right there. They hid it underground, under a S.H.I.E.L.D. base. We never suspected.” His fingers flexed like they were holding his bow. “They were using the scepter to try to make enhanced humans.” 

Bucky knew enough about the Battle of New York to understand why Clint looked as gutted as he did. 

Steve was furious. “How the hell did we miss that?” 

“We trusted S.H.I.E.L.D.” Natasha answered, voice small. She reached out to lay a hand on Clint’s forearm. “We had no way of knowing the scepter was gone. We didn’t know S.H.I.E.L.D. was HYDRA then.” 

“Did they make this colonel enhanced then?” Bucky asked. 

Clint looked at him, then away. “No. Having the Avengers come in shook shit up. Word went around to various factions as to why the American government, and the Avengers in particular, were interested in Sokovia. There were people in high places who didn’t want that kind of scrutiny. Didn’t want the Avengers or the US military to have any reason to come back.” His expression went bitter. “I’m sure none of them cared about the actual human experimentation, just the possibility of exposure. No one could agree on what to do, and a civil war broke out. When the dust settled, Von Strucker, the HYDRA leader at the base, had fled and there was new leadership in Sokovia.” 

“While this is all suitably terrible, I can’t help feeling like there’s more.” Bruce was looking between Coulson and Clint. 

Coulson nodded. “Zemo lost his father, his wife, and his son in the civil war that broke out after the Avengers left. He blames the Avengers. Believes their presence was the catalyst for everything that came after.” 

“He’s not completely wrong.” Tony’s voice was quiet. 

“Doesn’t really matter, I guess,” Clint said quietly. “He blames us for the deaths of his family, and he wants revenge.” 

“I’m assuming he orchestrated the taking of our other ancient super-soldier.” Tony’s gaze flicked from Steve to Bucky and then to Clint. “Why? He wasn’t HYDRA.” 

“Nope. And he probably hates them too since it was their actions that technically brought us to Sokovia. Like I said before, HYDRA has resources that are just lying around, waiting to be used.” 

Bucky sat up straight, spine rigid. “Me. He wants me.” 

“He wants the Soldier,” Clint corrected. 

Clint reached into an inside pocket of his uniform top, and pulled out a book. It was old and worn, with a dirty red cover with a black star in the center. 

“All he has to do is say the goddamn words,” Bucky murmured, without knowing what he even meant. 

“What words, Bucky?” 

Steve’s voice was incredibly gentle, no hint of the fear that Bucky could clearly see on his face. Bucky shook his head, even as connections were firing in the darkness of his memories. 

“Everything HYDRA put in me is still there.” Bucky shook his head, trying to clear it. “Trigger words. That book…” Bucky swallowed hard. “Those words will bring back the Soldier.” 

Steve’s fingers tightened around his. “You aren’t the soldier anymore. You aren’t HYDRA’s Asset.” 

“Not right now.” Tony’s voice was hard, his gaze sharp as he looked at Bucky. “All Zemo has to do is say the word.” 

There was anger in Tony’s eyes, pain, and grief so intense that Bucky’s breath caught. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clint stand up and move toward Tony, but Bucky never looked away from that dark gaze. 

“If he does, maybe then you kill someone else’s parents.” 

Chaos erupted in the room. Bucky barely noticed, pain lancing through his head, and making him cry out. He hit his knees, memories coming through in flashes. A car ramming into a tree. The plaintive cry from the front seat. A stranger on his knees, dazed. Confusion deepening as the stranger saw his face, said two words that had made no sense to the Asset. Those same words were a gut-punch to Bucky now. 

“He recognized me.” 

The yelling in the background quieted, Steve kneeling down beside him. He let Steve help him up, his gaze going to Tony. 

“He called me Sergeant Barnes. I didn’t even…” He looked at Tony helplessly. “I didn’t know what he meant. I didn’t…” 

Tony searched his face, looking for something. Finally, his shoulders drooped. “I admit that I wondered, after I found out. Wondered if you really had lost your memories.” Bucky flinched, and Tony’s eyes softened just a little. “Yeah, sorry. I was in a pretty bad place. I believe you, that you didn’t remember. And that you didn’t know when they sent you out.” 

Tony’s gaze shifted to Steve, his face colder and harder than when he’d looked at Bucky. Bucky felt Steve tense against him. 

“That’s more than I can say for some of this team.” 

The way Tony sneered the word team had Bucky flinching. He looked up at Steve, and the look on Steve’s face had Bucky going cold. Steve’s expression was a mix of resignation and that willful obstinance Bucky was so used to seeing. 

“You knew, didn’t you?” 

“Tony.” 

Tony’s jaw clenched, the grief on his face unmistakable. “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. Did you know?” 

Bucky shifted his focus to Steve, saw the answering pain mixed with determination on his face, and knew the answer before Steve spoke. 

“Yes.” 

Tony took a step forward, and Steve immediately angled himself in front of Bucky. Bucky’s heart broke just a little more. Didn’t matter how angry he was at Bucky, he’d always protect him. What he didn’t expect to see, when he looked over Steve’s shoulder, was Clint putting himself between Tony and Steve. Clint had his back to them, facing Tony as he spoke quietly into his ear. His arm was wrapped around Tony’s waist, and that intimacy he’d noted before was like a slap to the face. He knew Steve saw it too in the way Steve’s body went tight under the hand Bucky had placed on his back. 

Tony seemed to actually be listening to what Clint was telling him, shoulders slumping as he gave Clint a sharp nod. The tension in the room lifted slightly when Tony lifted his head to look at Steve. 

“We’re not okay. Not yet, and not for a while. I’d love to be petty and hold a grudge, kick you out on your ass.” Tony sighed. “I won’t. Whatever Clint is working on is going to need the team now.” 

Steve opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, and just nodded his head. Bucky would have been impressed at the uncharacteristic self-restraint if he’d had the energy. Instead, he quietly followed Steve and sat with him on the loveseat they’d occupied before, trying not to be hurt when Clint chose to sit next to Tony. That was a stupid reaction that would get them nowhere. Plus, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Tony was right. They had bigger problems at the moment. 

_Chapter 11 - Steve_

The team had managed to stay in the same room long enough for Clint to detail the last bit of knowledge he had on Zemo – Karpov had the only copy of the book, that they knew of, and Bucky was safe for the moment. The man had gone underground, and they’d all agreed that he probably wasn’t stupid enough to target Bucky again when he had no hope of bringing out the Soldier and controlling him. Natasha was going back out to gather intel. Tony and JARVIS would work on getting the paper files Clint had found on the Winter Soldier program digitized so they could search them for clues as to what Zemo’s next move might be. Coulson was heading back out with his team, leaving Clint behind for the moment. At least Steve could be sure Bucky was safe if he stayed in the Tower. And Steve didn’t plan on letting him out of his sight anytime soon. 

To that end, when the meeting broke up, Steve had herded Bucky onto the elevator and taken them to Steve’s floor. Steve would have loved to stay behind and talk to Clint, doubted it would be very productive right now. Steve was still trying to wrap his head around whatever was going on with Clint and Tony. Something had clearly happened between them and Steve wasn’t ready to hear about it. Wasn’t ready to find out that Clint had moved on already. 

Steve shoved that thought down deep and concentrated on Bucky. He’d been silent since the revelation of the details of Howard’s death, had simply listened while Clint and Coulson had finished explaining what they’d found out. He was sitting on the couch now, shoulders tight and head bent. Just looking at him made Steve ache. He went to sit on the coffee table in front of the couch, carefully not touching Bucky until Bucky tuned in and realized he was there. Bucky didn’t deal well with being startled, and he was clearly not paying attention. 

It took several long minutes before Bucky took in a ragged breath. He didn’t look up at Steve when he spoke. 

“Do you hate me now?” 

Steve’s heart broke at the misery in Bucky’s voice. “I could never hate you, Buck.” 

Bucky’s laugh was more than a little bitter as he lifted his head. “Could have fooled me these last few months.” 

Steve winced. He deserved that. “I don’t hate you. Never have. I was angry with you for what happened with Clint because you did it without talking to either me or Clint.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, Bucky. I never should have let things go on this long without talking to you.” 

Bucky shrugged. “I fucked up.” 

“There has to be a reason why you did it. I know how much you love Clint.” Bucky’s shoulders tightened again. Steve reached out to put a hand on his knee. “Hey, you don’t have to talk to me about it, unless you want to.” 

“Really don’t.” 

That was no surprise. If Steve were being honest, there’d been distance between them for a while now. Well before Bucky had broken things off with Clint. Steve had been so happy to have his friend and first love back that he’d overlooked the obvious problems in favor of just being with Bucky – and Clint – again. 

In hindsight, that was a damn stupid thing to do. 

“I’ve missed you, Buck. I should have told you that before now.” 

That Steve would always love Bucky was a given and anything else that was wrong could be dealt with. He just wanted his lover back. Bucky was smiling softly at him, and it melted Steve’s heart. 

“I missed you too. I… I was so fucking lonely, Stevie.” 

Steve moved to sit beside Bucky, gratified when Bucky immediately turned and sagged against him. He wrapped Bucky up in a tight hug, kissed his temple. 

“I know you don’t want to, and it doesn’t have to happen right now, but we do need to talk. I’m not letting you go, Buck.” 

He’d lost Bucky once, had believed it to be permanent, and it had destroyed him. He wasn’t going to go through that again. 

“It hurt, knowing you didn’t come for me today,” Bucky said into Steve’s chest. 

“I swear I didn’t do it to punish you. Coulson was closest, and I knew Clint was with him. I trusted Clint to get you out. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have cared about Coulson’s mission and keeping quiet. I would have torn the place apart to find you.” 

Bucky huffed out a laugh, nuzzled his cheek against Steve’s chest. “Okay, I believe you.” 

“As nice as it is to sit here with you, I think we should get you cleaned up. You’ll feel better once you’re clean and in comfortable clothes.” 

“Probably.” Bucky looked up, his face guarded. “You said we. You’ll stay with me?” 

“As long as you want.” 

“And I… I can stay here with you? Come back home, I mean.” 

Steve’s heart broke all over again. He’d been such an ass, holding this grudge for so long and hurting Bucky this badly in the process. 

“I never wanted you to leave.” 

Bucky ducked his head, hair obscuring his face. “I wasn’t sure. Asked Tony for a floor of my own so you wouldn’t have to kick me out. Then I wouldn’t ever have to know for sure that you wanted me gone.” 

“Damn it, Buck.” Steve pulled Bucky into a hug tight enough to make the other man squeak. “Talking. You. Me. Starting tomorrow. I can’t lose you just because we’re too damn stubborn to say what we’re feeling.” 

“Fine. I should call and talk to my therapists too.” 

Bucky did not sound thrilled about that. Not that Steve could blame him. 

“If it helps, it’s worth it. You’re worth it.” 

“Sap,” Bucky accused, pushing into a seated position. “Fine. I get a break tonight, though. I don’t want to talk about what happened with Clint, or our fight. I don’t…” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to talk about Stark. Not tonight. Please, Stevie.” 

Steve knew it would do more harm than good to push, and he nodded. “Tonight is for us, then. Let’s get cleaned up and into pajamas. Then we’ll crawl into bed and watch crappy television. Sound good?” 

“Can we order pizza somewhere in there?” 

Steve’s heart twisted. Pizza would have been Clint’s suggestion. Bucky usually went for Thai or Chinese when it was his turn to choose the takeout. “Course we can.” 

“Then I’m all yours.” 

That sounded perfect to Steve.

⍟➳✪

Steve was pulled from sleep by the sound of Bucky screaming. He jerked upright, awake in a second and scanning the room for danger. Bucky rolled away from him, hitting the floor and curling into a ball as he shook in the grip of his nightmare. As soon as Steve realized that there was no actual threat, he jumped out of bed and knelt down by Bucky.

“Bucky? Hey, Buck, it’s me. Come on, sweetheart. Try and listen to my voice.” 

Bucky had had nightmares fairly often when he’d first come to live in the Tower, Fi they’d tapered off as Bucky settled in. Steve supposed he should have been prepared for one tonight, considering what they’d learned. Everything in him called out for him to grab Bucky and hold him close, show him he was safe and protected. Past experience told him that would just make things worse. Instead, he talked, keeping his voice low and soothing. Eventually Bucky’s tremors tapered off, his body still curled up tight to protect himself. 

“You with me, Bucky?” 

“Steve?” 

Bucky’s voice was hoarse from screaming, his tone a heartbreaking mix of hope and disbelief. 

“Yeah, honey. It’s me. I’m here. You’re here in New York.” He stopped himself from saying Stark’s name, in case that was what Bucky’s nightmare was about. “You’re home with me and you’re safe. We both are.” 

Gradually, Bucky was able to uncurl his body and roll over toward Steve. He put a hand out and Steve grasped it, linking their fingers. 

“You’re safe, Bucky, I promise.” 

Bucky shuddered then scrambled into Steve’s lap. His shaking started up again and Steve wrapped his arms around him, speaking quietly into his ear until Bucky came completely back to himself. He slumped against Steve, breathing hard. 

“Hey, there you are.” 

“Don’t leave, Stevie.” 

“I won’t. Going to sit right here with you until you’re ready to get up.” 

They sat for a long time, Bucky occasionally letting out a soft, distressed sound. Steve held him close, speaking nonsense to him about a book he’d read, and about the movie they’d watched before bed. Anything to keep Bucky grounded here and now. Finally, Bucky went limp against Steve, all the tension drained out of him. Steve kissed his temple. 

“That was a bad one, huh?” 

Bucky rarely talked about his nightmares even though Steve always made it clear that he could say as much or as little as he wanted. 

“Dreamed about Stark. No surprise, huh?” 

“Not really, no.” 

“The book. The one Clint found?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t remember when they put the words in. Just remember they’d wipe me and then say them.” Bucky took a shaky breath. “I don’t know why. They already had me. The wipes… God, Steve. They just took everything human out of me.” 

Steve held him tightly, shoving down his anger at HYDRA. “Not anymore, Buck. You’re not theirs. I’m never letting them get their hands on you again.” 

Bucky looked up at Steve, eyes haunted. “You can’t promise me that.” 

“Bullshit. I will do anything I have to do to keep you safe.” 

Bucky didn’t protest, likely too exhausted. He let Steve help him up to sit on the bed, moving enough to help Steve strip off Bucky’s pajamas, now soaked in sweat. Steve went to wet a washcloth, brought it back with a soft towel. He cleaned Bucky up, got him into fresh pajamas. He tucked Bucky back into bed then went to wash up. He crawled into bed and curled around Bucky, smiling when Bucky wiggled back into Steve’s arms. 

“Think you can sleep?” Steve asked quietly. 

“Can try.” 

“You should. You need it.” 

“So do you, punk.” 

“Jerk.” Bucky wasn’t wrong. Steve hadn’t been sleeping well at all with both Clint and Bucky gone. “I will if you will.” 

Bucky mumbled something as he relaxed against Steve. Before long, his breathing was deep and even. Steve stayed awake, half afraid Bucky would have another nightmare. Eventually exhaustion got the best of him and he fell into a restless sleep.

⍟➳✪

The next few days were hell. Bucky was back to seeing his therapists every day, and the slow return of memories they’d once predicted turned out to be a lie. Once that barrier had been opened by recalling Stark’s death, Bucky’s memories came back with a vengeance. He had nightmares every night, until he refused to sleep, afraid of what he’d see. Turned out that didn’t matter. He didn’t need to be asleep, and a memory could be triggered by almost anything.

Bucky became a ghost, wandering around the apartment haunted and pale. His eyes bruised from lack of sleep, and he lost weight because he never wanted to eat. Steve quit trying to get him out into fresh air and sunshine, took to bribing him with chocolate milkshakes just to get some calories into him. He was at a complete loss as to how to help. Bucky would smile sadly whenever Steve said that and insist that having Steve there was enough. 

Bucky’s therapists insisted this was, ultimately, a good thing. That the poison needed to be lanced in order for Bucky to begin to heal. Steve thought they were full of shit. He couldn’t stand to see Bucky in pain like this, carrying so much guilt that it bowed his shoulders. He didn’t know what else he could do except hunker down with Bucky and wait out the storm. 

By the fifth day, Steve was ready to climb the walls. He was practically vibrating out of his skin and Bucky finally had enough. 

“Go, Stevie.” 

Steve was standing at the window, staring out at nothing. He turned to Bucky with a frown. “What? Go where?” 

“Out. Running, probably. You need the release.” 

Steve’s brain immediately conjured up other ideas on how he could relieve tension. He buried those thoughts deep as quickly as he could. They were getting closer, healing their rift, but they weren’t at a place where sex had become an option. 

“’m fine, Buck. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“Course I do,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “It’s a nice break from my own shit.” 

“Buck…” 

“No, I mean it. Go out for a run. It’s not like you won’t be coming back.” 

Man, that sounded so good to Steve now that Bucky had put the thought in his mind. “You sure you’ll be okay?” 

“I’m almost a century old, Steve. I can handle a couple hours by myself.” 

“You’d call me if you needed me? I’d come right back.” 

“I would, I promise.” 

Once Bucky persuaded him to go, Steve was anxious to get out the door. He probably needed this more than he knew. 

He quickly changed clothes, dug his sneakers out from the back of the closet. Bucky had filled his water bottle for him, and Steve shot him a smile. 

“Thanks, Buck.” 

“You’re not a shut-in. Stop acting like it.” 

“I’ll do better, I promise.” 

He tucked his phone into his pocket, kissed Bucky’s cheek, and headed out. He was smiling, remembering the look of stunned pleasure on Bucky’s face. They slept together every night, platonically. Steve hadn’t kissed Bucky since Clint’s accident. It felt… good. Felt right, and Steve couldn’t help feeling hopeful as he left the apartment and went down the hallway to the elevator. 

_Chapter 12 - Clint_

Clint had known being back in the Tower after his break-up would be awful, yet he’d somehow still underestimated just how much it would suck. His job, for the moment, was finished. Until Zemo surfaced or Natasha found some new information they needed to act on, there was nothing for him to do. 

Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem. Downtime between missions was something to be savored. Now, it was like he couldn’t remember what it had been like before he’d had Steve and Bucky. What had he done with time off when he’d been single? Had he ever even taken time off? Jesus that was a sad thought. 

Clint was left to wander around the Tower while he waited for some sort of intel that would get the team moving. Steve was basically in the same boat, though he’d disappeared onto his floor with Bucky once everyone had dispersed. No one had seen either of them in the week since. Clint wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, he supposed he should be happy that they’d apparently kissed and made up. On the other, it was a punch in the gut to know he’d been right and the two of them had never needed his third. 

Thoughts like that weren’t conducive to a restful night’s sleep. Clint found himself up before dawn with nothing to do to pass the time. He showered and dressed before finally deciding to go out for coffee and a walk. Maybe fresh air would help clear his head. He’d give Natasha a call, and they could talk through all the shit they hadn’t had a chance to before now. 

He got on the elevator and asked JARVIS to take him to the lobby as he pulled out his phone. He was trying to figure out time zones and if he should just text Natasha, let her call him when she was free. He didn’t notice that the elevator had stopped until the doors opened, and Steve stepped inside. They both froze, and Clint cursed quietly to himself. 

Steve was dressed for a run, his T-shirt as stupidly tight as always. He’d let his hair grow out and he was still sporting the beard Tony had teased him about. He looked good, until Clint looked more closely. When he wasn’t blinded by Steve’s pecs and that thick, dark beard, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Steve’s familiar blue eyes were dull and he fidgeted uncharacteristically. Clint didn’t think it was because they’d run into one another unexpectedly. Steve was clearly exhausted and worried. Clint didn’t have a clue how Bucky had handled the Howard Stark reveal, not that it was hard to figure out. This had to be killing Bucky, which meant it would be killing Steve as well. 

The elevator doors sliding closed and the car moving again pulled Clint out of his thoughts. He felt like he’d been staring stupidly at Steve for hours, not seconds. He cleared his throat, shoved his hands in his pockets since he didn’t have anything else to do with them. 

“Hey, Steve.” 

Steve stared at him for a moment before giving an incredulous little laugh. “We haven’t spoken in months and that’s what you’re going with?” 

Clint shrugged; the movement awkward with his hands in his pockets. He pulled them out, still didn’t have a clue what to do with them. “Look, I know it’s going to be weird, us talking. You know. After.” 

“After what, Clint? After you left me with no warning?” 

Clint looked at him, shocked. “What do you mean when I left _you_?” 

Steve glared at him, reached out to smack his palm against the emergency stop button. Their downward momentum stopped immediately, and it was only seconds later that JARVIS spoke. 

“Hello, Captain Rogers. Could you please explain the nature of your emergency so that I may alert the proper authorities?” 

“Sorry, JARVIS, we’re fine. I need a minute of privacy with Clint.” 

There was a loaded silence before JARVIS answered. “Very good, Captain. I will activate privacy protocols.” 

There was a tinny click that told Clint that JARVIS had locked them down to prying eyes and ears. Before Clint could even think of how to start the conversation, Steve blew out a frustrated breath. 

“I know I made a mistake that day, okay? I do. I was confused and worried and… I know Bucky, Clint. I know how much he loves you.” Clint flinched. Steve’s eyes softened. “Bucky breaking up with you didn’t make any sense. It scared me and I had to know why. I had to find him, get him to explain.” 

“I know how important he is to you,” Clint said as evenly as he could. 

“Great.” Steve’s tone was biting. “Would be nice if you ever acknowledged how important you are to me.” 

“God, Steve, it wasn’t like that.” 

“Wasn’t it? Do you honestly think I’m so stupid that I didn’t notice how you were when Bucky first got to the Tower? You barely liked him. Yet you were the one that brought up the idea of having a three-way relationship.” 

Clint’s shoulders hunched. Yeah, he’d definitely not been in love with Bucky when he’d first brought up that subject. 

“I guess maybe I am stupid,” Steve said quietly. “Because I thought that maybe, given some time, things would change. And they did, in a way. You fell for Bucky as hard as he fell for you, and that was amazing. It just didn’t change how you feel about me.” 

“Course it didn’t.” Clint was completely lost now. “I wasn’t going to fall out of love with you just because I caught feelings for Bucky too.” 

“Loving me didn’t mean you trusted me.” 

All Clint could do was gape at Steve. “I trust you more than anyone.” 

“Then we have a bigger problem than I thought.” Steve’s voice was full of a quiet hurt that Clint ached to soothe. “Because you’ve never trusted me, not when it comes to Bucky. You’ve never believed me when I’ve said that you mean as much to me as he does. If you did, you wouldn’t have freaked out and left the hospital before I got back.” 

Something went tight in Clint’s chest, something that felt like guilt. Clint shoved it down. He was the injured party here, goddamn it. “Yeah, I left. I wasn’t going to wait around to get broken up with for the second time in one day.” Clint’s tone went cold. “Once was plenty, thanks.” 

“And what convinced you I was going to do that, huh?” Steve’s eyes flashed, his tone tight with underlying anger. “Because I never said that. I never even thought about it. You just didn’t trust me enough to stick around and talk about what was going to happen. You ran.” 

“Fuck you!” Clint lashed out. “I’ve always trusted you, loved you. Doesn’t mean I’m blind to what Bucky is to you. You expect me to believe we were going to be able to find a way to be together somehow when he’d broken it off with me? You were never going to choose me.” 

And Clint had always known that, from the first minute it became clear there was a part of Bucky left in the Soldier. He’d always known he’d lose Steve, no matter what he did to hang on to him. 

Steve watched him, chest heaving as he clearly held himself back from responding. Finally, his face went carefully blank as he reached out to push the emergency button and get them moving again. 

“Guess you did the right thing then. Good for you.” 

Steve turned his back on Clint and spent the few second ride down to the lobby in a furious silence. Clint wanted to break it, couldn’t have said why. Fighting with Steve fucking hurt, and he’d be stupid to want more of that. He wanted… he didn’t even know what. Something other than the sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. The hollow, sinking whisper that maybe, just maybe he'd missed something 

Instead, he got to watch Steve step off the elevator and walk across the lobby to the exit without once pausing or looking back at Clint.

⍟➳✪

The encounter bothered Clint in ways he couldn’t put his finger on. He was angry, yes, and getting angrier. The anger and frustration seemed to have him autopilot, had him lashing out when that wasn’t like him. Trying to figure out what else he was feeling just irritated him more and he finally just settled on being pissed. He had every right to be. Steve had left him and then tried to turn it around to make it Clint’s fault. Fuck that noise.

He’d been trying to contact Natasha since the elevator encounter, still hadn’t gotten a call back. Knowing why didn’t help calm him down. It was just one more thing to fuel the rage. If he were being honest, it felt good to finally feel that. He’d been broken and bruised in more than just the physical when he’d fled the hospital. He’d been lonely after that, healing on his own until Coulson called him to help his team. It had felt good to be needed, gave him a focus while he finished healing. Let him shove down the hurt at having his relationships ended abruptly. He’d never been angry at what Bucky had done, hadn’t let himself have time. 

Having Steve shove it all in his face the way he had brought out a fury Clint hadn’t realized he even felt. And there was no pushing it back down, not now. 

The problem was that with Natasha gone, he didn’t have his normal sparring partner to help him work out his issues. She knew him well after years as his partner and best friend. They’d beat the shit out of one another then get drunk and he’d spill whatever was bothering him. She’d smack sense into him – sometimes literally – and things would be fine. Beating on a punching bag wasn’t as cathartic as he’d like it to be. 

He was lost in his head, never heard the door to the gym open. He had fantastic spatial awareness, normally. Being home meant he should have been able to let down his guard. Turned out he was wrong because it left him utterly unprepared for Bucky to appear at his left without Clint hearing even a whisper of sound. His gaze flicked to Bucky, rhythm faltering before he studiously turned his attention back to the bag. He forced himself to take a calming breath as he fell back into the easy motion he’d had before. 

“You want something, Barnes?” 

He caught Bucky’s flinch, felt a petty satisfaction that his words had bothered his former lover. 

“Could we talk?” 

“Nothing to talk about.” 

“Clint, please.” 

Clint turned to Bucky, glaring furiously. “I said no. There isn’t anything you can say that I want to hear right now.” 

There were dark circles under Bucky’s eyes, and he looked as exhausted as Steve had when Clint had run into him on the elevator. It hurt to see him like that, to know he was suffering and Clint couldn’t help. He wished he could turn that part of himself off, the part that worried over Bucky. He didn’t want to be happy that Bucky was in pain. He didn’t want to care at all. It hurt too goddamn much. 

Bucky stood quietly, watching Clint and biting at his bottom lip before his shoulders slumped. “Okay, I’ll umm… go? Do you want me to…”? 

Seeing Bucky just give up like that killed Clint. Bucky was strong, Bucky was a fighter. He’d had to be to survive the shit HYDRA had done to him. Clint squared his shoulders, tried to harden his heart. “I don’t care what you do, Barnes.” 

Bucky flinched again before he nodded and moved off to the treadmills in the opposite corner of the gym. Clint watched for a minute, chest feeling hollow as he noted the stiff way Bucky moved. It was unlike him. Bucky was big, his frame bulkier than Steve’s. Clint had been fond of telling him he was built like a tank. Even with all that muscle, he’d always carried himself with an uncanny grace. That wasn’t evident now. Everything about him was stiff, his posture defeated, and despite Clint’s desire to protect himself, he did care that Bucky was in pain. 

Goddamn it. 

Cursing softly, he turned back to the bag, forced himself to fall back into a rhythm. He’d lost his enthusiasm for beating the shit out of an inanimate object. Stubbornness wouldn’t allow him to let Bucky run him out of the gym.

⍟➳✪

Clint couldn’t seem to fall back into the zone, his attention constantly straying toward the corner where Bucky was listlessly walking on the treadmill. He wasn’t sure why Bucky was down here, why he hadn’t just gone with Steve on his run, then had to remind himself that the answer was none of his business. Cursing under his breath, he stepped away from the bag and shook off his gloves, grabbed his water bottle from the bench nearby. He’d chugged about half of it when the door opened and Tony wandered in.

He looked as tired as Clint felt, and Clint’s chest ached with sympathy. He’d hated bringing the truth about Howard and Maria to Tony. The only bright spot was that Pepper had come back and Clint just hoped that she was helping Tony through all of this. 

Tony came over to him, snatched the water bottle out of Clint’s hands and took a drink. Clint could see Bucky watching them out of the corner of his eye. Tony followed his gaze, shoulders going tight when he saw they weren’t alone. 

“Surprised you’re in here with Chucky. Can’t say I expected that.” 

Bucky’s body tensed and Clint knew he’d gotten the reference. He gave Tony a look. “Tony.” 

“Not my best insult, I know. I’m not completely awake yet. I need caffeine.” He frowned down at the bottle in his hand. “Why are you drinking this boring crap?” 

“It’s called hydration, buddy. You might have heard of it.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Come upstairs to the kitchen with me and I’ll make you a smoothie. It’ll be a lot better than this.” 

Tony had moved closer, well into Clint’s personal space. Clint knew the moment Bucky noticed it, saw his steps falter as he stumbled a bit on the treadmill. As angry as he was with Bucky, he couldn’t bring himself to deliberately hurt Bucky like that. Before he could step away, Steve entered the gym. He took one look at Tony and Clint, swung his gaze toward a clearly hurt Bucky. He turned a glare on Clint before striding toward the treadmills. His voice was soft when he spoke to Bucky. 

“Hey, Buck. Let’s get you out of here, okay?” 

He helped Bucky slow the treadmill down and then stop it, his arm sliding around Bucky’s waist. He maneuvered himself to be between Bucky and Clint. Something about the protectiveness, like Bucky needed to be shielded from Clint, stung. 

“Hey, fuck you.” Clint was furious. “He doesn’t need protecting from me.” 

Steve spun toward him angrily. “Bullshit. You think it doesn’t hurt to see you standing there with your new boyfriend? Like you’re shoving it my face. In our faces.” 

“My what now?” The confusion derailed Clint’s anger a bit. 

“Wait, me?” Tony asked. “I’m flattered. But I’m not dating Clint.” 

“Oh, sorry.” Steve’s tone practically dripped sarcasm. “Your fuckbuddy then.” 

Clint would have snorted at the ridiculousness of Steve using that term; Tony beat him to it. 

“Well, we are friends. And we have fucked.” 

Pandemonium broke out. Loud, angry voices echoed in the gym, everyone trying to outdo everyone else. Tony was in Steve’s face, Steve arguing right back and that was normal. They argued all the time. Yet the absolute bitter fury on Steve’s face, and the betrayal on Tony’s was nothing Clint had ever seen before. Trying to break in only made it worse with Steve sniping at Clint about taking sides and Tony yelling at Steve to quit yelling at Clint. Bucky had a hand on Steve’s back, trying to get Steve to calm down and back off. Tony took a step as if to go around Steve and get at Bucky. 

Clint wasn’t sure what would have happened next if the sprinkler system hadn’t suddenly activated, dousing them all in cold water. It lasted less than a minute, which was still long enough to shock them all into silence. When it turned off, Tony seemed the most perplexed. 

“What the hell was that, JARVIS?” 

“Ms. Potts activated the protocol when no one noticed her attempts to get the four of you to stand down.” 

JARVIS sounded disappointed in them and that was bad. It got worse when Pepper stepped into the gym. She was holding her shoes, grimacing as she walked through the puddles of water on the floor. Tony gave her an incredulous look. 

“Really, Pep?” 

“You and Steve nearly just came to blows, Tony. This was the mildest solution I could think of.” 

Tony sent a sheepish look at Steve, who was already flushed from embarrassment. Pepper glared at the four of them, hands on her hips. 

“I am going to step back out into the hallway and finish up the conference call I was on when JARVIS told me what was going on down here. You four will sit here and have an actual conversation, preferably with apologies. No one leaves this room until I come back in. Understood?” 

“Come on, Pep,” Tony pleaded. “I’m fucking freezing.” 

“You should have thought of that before acting like a toddler.” 

She turned her back on them and left the gym, the door closing with a flat bang. Left alone, the foursome stood around awkwardly, a lot of fidgeting accompanying dead silence. Bucky moved first, wrapping his arms around himself. He was noticeably shivering which made Clint frown. 

“You okay, Bucky?” 

Bucky’s gaze flicked to him then away. There was a flush on his cheeks when he answered. “Just cold. I don’t…” 

“Thought you sniper types could handle shitty conditions?” Tony snarked. 

Bucky looked even more embarrassed. “Too much like cryo. I don’t like being cold.” His head dropped, hair hiding his face and Clint recognized the defense mechanism. 

Tony had the grace to look chastened. Clint knew he’d been reading the Winter Soldier files, knew he was learning all the horrible shit that HYDRA had put Bucky through. Rather than say anything about that, Tony disappeared into the locker room off the gym. He came back with a handful of thick towels, handed the first one to Bucky. Bucky lifted his head, his expression guardedly thankful in a way that hurt Clint’s heart. 

He quietly accepted his own towel and scrubbed through his hair. He was wet and cold, but Tony was right. He’d definitely been through worse. They weren’t in the field, though. Being home meant not having to put up with uncomfortable shit. Sighing, he wandered over to sit on the edge of a weight bench. The other three followed his lead, finding their own places to sit that were slightly less wet than the floor. 

An uncomfortable silence reigned until Tony broke it. “Pep’s right.” 

He didn’t say anything else and Clint looked at him, arched a brow. Tony shrugged at him. Clint got it; Tony wasn’t great at apologies, and it wasn’t like he was the only one needing to make one. Steve seemed to get it too. 

“We can’t keep doing this. It’s hurting the team. This family.” He flushed. “I mean, it’s been a family for me.” 

“Me too,” Tony agreed quietly. “I’m just so goddamn angry all the time.” 

“This is my fault,” Bucky said quietly. “I should go.” 

“Pep said no one can leave the room,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“No, I mean the Tower. You shouldn’t…” Bucky swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t have to live with me.” 

Clint was startled to find that he wanted to protest. Tony beat him to it. 

“Don’t. I’m not ready to forgive you yet but I can’t have you being all self-sacrificing.” Bucky frowned; Tony waved a hand at him. “I get it, okay? That it was you. You didn’t have control. HYDRA used you to do horrible things.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed quietly. “I still did them. I can’t forget that.” 

Clint frowned at the wording. “Wait, you’re remembering?” 

“It started after we all talked about Howard and Maria,” Steve said, reaching out rub a comforting hand along Bucky’s arm. 

“I remember all of them,” Bucky said quietly. His lips twisted into a pained smile. “Guess S.H.I.E.L.D. will be happy now.” 

Tony looked as pained as Clint felt. Clint had read the files, knew second hand the things the Soldier had been used for. His heart ached with the knowledge that Bucky was being forced to relive that. 

There was another long silence. Tony broke this one as well. 

“You don’t have to go, Bucky. Not unless you want to.” He stood up to pace. “I’m still trying to get this all straight in my head. Believe it or not I miss my friend.” Bucky’s head shot up and he gave Tony an incredulous look. “Yeah, I know. Shocks the shit out of me too,” Tony said. “Besides Bruce, you’re the only one who comes in my lab and understands most everything I say.” 

Bucky smiled tentatively. “I like hanging out in the lab. Your bots are awesome.” 

Steve’s focus shifted from Bucky to Tony. “I’m sorry I kept this from you Tony.” 

Tony shrugged one shoulder and Clint could tell he was uncomfortable. “I know why you did. Still think you were wrong.” 

“Natasha and I were just trying to protect you.” Steve’s posture slumped. “And Bucky. I have to keep him safe, Tony. I never meant for it to be at your expense.” 

Clint watched Tony watch Steve, saw some of the tension in Tony ease. “Okay. I can believe that. We’ll work on the rest, I guess.” 

Steve accepted that without pushing, and Clint started to hope they’d be alright someday. He felt someone’s gaze on him, was unsurprised to look up and find that it was Bucky watching him. Bucky cleared his throat, fingers twisting in the towel he held on his lap. 

“You and Tony, huh?” 

“It’s not like how you’re making it sound.” 

“It’s okay if it is.” Bucky flushed. “Not that you need my permission or my blessing or anything.” 

He looked miserable and Clint couldn’t help wondering why. Couldn’t help hoping. He squared his shoulders, forced himself to be honest even though it was leaving him open to more pain. 

“Tony and I had sex one time. We’re not in a relationship.” He looked toward Tony. “Pretty sure neither one of us wants that.” 

“Nope,” Tony said cheerfully. “Not that you weren’t great.” Clint rolled his eyes, making Tony grin at him. “You aren’t Pep, though.” 

Steve had had a pained look onto his face until Tony mentioned Pepper. “Are you guys trying again?” 

Tony’s smile was bright and real. “We’re talking things through, and I feel good about it.” He gave a pointed look to all three men in the room. “Just saying. You guys should try it.” 

“Tony.” Clint’s voice held a warning that Tony completely ignored. 

“Maybe you’re over, maybe not. No way I’d know that. The thing is, I don’t think you guys know that either.” He wagged a finger in Bucky’s direction. “Closure. Tell me your therapists aren’t big on that.” 

Bucky groaned. “I wish I could say you were wrong.” 

Clint was relieved when the door opened and Pepper rejoined them. She looked between the four of them and finally smiled. 

“Alright then. It’s a start. I’m going upstairs to change and have a glass of wine.” She turned and walked back to the door. She paused, threw a look over her shoulder at Tony. “You’re joining me.” 

“Yep, on it.” 

Tony had a bounce in his step as he followed Pepper out. He did his own pause at the door, gave Clint a significant look. Clint groaned, making Tony beam and shoot finger guns at him before he finally left them alone. 

The silence that descended was thick. Clint wanted to break, had things he wanted to know. He had things to work through first. 

“I need to go.” 

“Clint.” 

Steve almost sounded disappointed, and it was hard for Clint not to waver. 

“Not now. I’m cold and I’m miserable and I just…not now, okay?” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Alright, Clint.” 

Clint didn’t wait around, made a beeline for the door. He needed to get out of his wet clothes and he had some thinking to do. 

_Chapter 13 - Bucky_

When they got to their floor, Bucky went to the guestroom to shower and Steve used the master bath. Bucky went back to their bedroom to dress in a jeans and socks, and a warm, heavy sweater. He couldn’t seem to shake the chill he had, knew it was mostly in his head. 

Steve was in still in the shower. Bucky went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before rummaging through the fridge for ingredients for breakfast. Bucky wasn’t very hungry but he knew Steve would need the calories after his morning workout. 

He was plating eggs and bacon when Steve came into the kitchen. He was wearing jeans and a sweater too, his eyes tired even as he smiled at Bucky. 

“That smells good. I’m starving.” 

“I knew you would be.” 

They settled in at the kitchen island, sitting next to one another and comfortably sharing space. It felt good to have this easy closeness with Steve again, though he knew that both of them were missing Clint. He started to ask Steve a question, and was interrupted by a soft chime warning them before JARVIS spoke. 

“I apologize for interrupting, Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes. Agent Barton is approaching your door.” 

Steve looked as surprised as Bucky felt. 

“Thank you, JARVIS,” Steve responded. “Could you let him know it’s okay for him to come in?” 

“Of course, Captain.” 

They both stood, Steve moving toward the door as Clint came inside. His T-shirt was damp, ends of his hair still dripping as if he’d rushed through his shower in order to come to them. He looked nervous if determined and Bucky didn’t know what to think about that. He kept quiet, Clint’s full attention on Steve at the moment. 

“Did you mean what you said in the elevator this morning?” Clint finally demanded. 

Bucky frowned. Steve hadn’t mentioned seeing Clint before the gym. Then again, they hadn’t had time alone to have any real conversation. Steve’s jaw ticked just before he nodded. 

“Yes, I did. It’s how I feel.” 

“And the thing about Tony? You, umm, kind of seemed like you were jealous.” 

Steve blew out an exasperated breath. “Why wouldn’t I be jealous, Clint? You left me, not the other way around. Sorry if I’m not ready to be okay with you having a new guy.” 

Bucky was completely lost, and had to force himself to stay quiet. No way was he interrupting now that there was a conversation going on. 

Clint’s shoulders dropped, remorse clear on his face. “I’ve spent all these weeks being angry at Bucky for leaving me with no explanation and now I find out I did the same damn thing to you.” 

Bucky held back a wince, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Steve was unusually quiet, his gaze searching Clint’s face. Long moments later, he sighed. 

“You broke my heart, Clint.” 

Clint made a wounded noise, stepped forward as he reached for Steve before he seemed to catch himself. 

“God I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough, I know. I swear I never meant to hurt you.” 

Steve hesitated before nodding tightly. “I believe you.” 

Relief crossed Clint’s face before he turned to look at Bucky. “What about you?” 

“Me?” Bucky asked, confused. 

“Yeah. You didn’t seem to like the idea of me and Tony any better than Steve did. Why?” 

Bucky’s throat went tight. He’d run for a reason, knew he owed Clint an explanation for it. He wasn’t ready for that; knew he’d have to talk eventually. Because he’d broken Steve’s heart too, hadn’t he? Right along with Clint’s and even his own. 

“I don’t want to share you,” he said simply. “Only with Steve.” 

Clint arched a brow. “That an apology, Buck?” 

“Not yet. It’s not enough, until I can tell you all of it.” 

Clint, as always, understood him. “Fine. Just give me one question.” 

Bucky thought about that before nodding. “One. For now.” 

“Did you leave me because you fell out of love with me?” 

Bucky hadn’t expected that at all, which was stupid. He knew Clint, should have known that’s where Clint’s head would go. “No, baby. I love you more than anything.” 

The relief that crossed Clint’s face stole Bucky’s breath. He’d done more damage than he’d ever realized. He looked to Steve, panicked. Steve smiled gently at him before he turned and stepped closer to Clint. He took Clint’s hand, tugged gently to urge him forward. 

“Come and sit with us, Clint. Let’s have breakfast and talk.” 

Clint took a shaky breath, allowed Steve to pull him toward the table. The breakfast Bucky had made for them was cooling. Bucky went to make more eggs and bacon while Clint started another pot of coffee. Steve brought their plates to the counter, grabbed another one out of the cupboard before making toast. Bucky divided up the fresh breakfast, mixing it in with the cooler food. It wouldn’t be the best thing ever but none of them could stand to waste food. They’d make it work. 

Seated around the island, Bucky couldn’t help feeling hopeful. He knew that nothing was fixed, that there were hours and hours of talking ahead of them. Plus, there was the threat of Zemo and the problems with Bucky’s memories, and… 

He felt a kick to his ankle, looked up to find Clint watching him. 

“Let’s just eat, okay, Buck? We’ll work on the rest.” 

Bucky looked from Clint to Steve, who looked more hopeful than Bucky had seen him in a while. He nodded. 

“We’re doing this then?” 

“The right way this time,” Steve said. 

“All three of us,” Clint declared. 

That sounded pretty damn good to Bucky.

**Author's Note:**

> This did NOT end the way I envisioned when I first started this project so many months ago. You can blame one James Buchanan Barnes for that. You can blame my poor outlining skills for the fact that it wasn't until I neared the 'end' that I realized that it wasn't the end at all. These boys have a lot to do yet, including deal with Zemo.
> 
> Bucky would rather do that than talk. 
> 
> Sequel!


End file.
